The Unicorn and The Slayer
by M. Scott Eiland
Summary: A Prince of Amber visits the Hellmouth. BTVSAmber crossover.
1. Default Chapter

This is a crossover story combining the Amber universe created by the late, great Roger Zelazny and BTVS. This is accomplished by assuming that the Buffyverse is simply a shadow of Amber (if any reader is now in a state of deep confusion, I highly recommend you read Nine Princes in Amber by Zelazny, and go on from there).  
  
Summary: A Prince of Amber visits the Hellmouth. . .with completely unexpected results.  
  
Disclaimer: All of these characters are the property of their owners/creators; furthermore, if Roger Zelazny were still alive I wouldn't even attempt this. . .but these characters are too interesting to leave alone.  
  
Rating: PG-13, for the usual violence, mild language, and pointed irony by elder Amberites and Slayerettes.  
  
Time Frame: Between "Dopplegangland" and "Enemies." Also takes place after all of the Amber short stories written by Zelazny before his death.  
  
Author's note: This story is written in the first person. The point of view character will be noted in capital letters before the appropriate section (my apologies to anyone who thinks I am restating the obvious).  
  
  
THE UNICORN AND THE SLAYER  
  
PART I  
  
  
  
BLEYS  
  
I stopped shifting shadow and examined my surroundings. Great, a graveyard. It may have been all right for Brother Corwin to piss on his own grave, but I have made it a lifetime habit to avoid such places if at all possible; else, what good is it to be immortal? From my vantage point atop Zephyr, my best hellriding stallion, I carefully looked around for other sights of interest, only to spot more graveyards as far as the eye could see. Nice place my big sister had decided to send me to. I removed the pack of Trumps from my pocket and removed the correct one. I concentrated on the delicate features and met the emerald gaze. After a moment, there was contact.  
  
"Ah, Bleys, you've arrived. Good of you to get there on time." Fiona's voice contained just a hint of mockery, reflecting the annoyance she knew I felt about her uncanny ability to know who was calling her by Trump before answering, while the rest of us had to worry about finding ourselves at the mercy of a relative with a grudge and a talent for mental duelling. I scowled and replied, "Yes, I endeavor to please, Fiona. Would you mind telling me again why it was so damned important for me to find myself standing in some misbeggoten shadow in the middle of the night in a graveyard?"  
  
Fiona smiled and purred, "Why dear brother, I thought you would like to be out and about for a while, after I spent those three weeks nursing you back to health after that unfortunate incident with Rinaldo."  
  
Bitch. Leave it to Fiona to turn the guilt tap on at full force. I would have been in sorry shape after my vengeful nephew perforated me with a bullet that should not have been effective so close to Amber had Fiona not taken the time to supervise my recovery. I will have to have a talk with Rinaldo, not so much because he shot me-that just proves he's family. No, I will get even with him for putting me in debt to Fiona, for she always collects debts with interest. "All right, all right," I grumbled, tacitly conceding the game to the smirking woman before me, "but would it have killed you to bring Corwin in on this? He seems to love dealing with all of this terribly significant crap."  
  
Fiona looked rueful for a moment before replying, "Corwin and I are on the outs right now. . .he still hasn't forgiven me for that whole situation where he and Rinaldo ended up perforating each other. Amazing what some people will hold a grudge over." She looked directly at me and commented, "Besides, you are better suited for this task, little brother. You are gifted both in weapons and sorcery, and you are quite familiar with this area of shadow."  
  
After a moment, I realized that she was right. Some time back, when I was dodging most of my siblings in the aftermath of my fall from Kolvir (have Corwin tell that tale, I've grown weary of it) I spent a lot of time in this general area of Shadow. . .close to Chaos, modern technology, lots of weird stuff going on. . .it made it easy for one scion of Amber to remain inconspicuous. I wasn't sure if it was this shadow in particular, but I did have a nagging sense that I knew this place. I dismissed the feeling and returned my attention to the Sorceress of Amber. "Very well, sister. What is the mission that brings me here?"  
  
Fiona frowned, then began to explain, occasionally looking down at what appeared to be notes. "There is a nexus of power in this shadow which the local inhabitants-those who are aware of its existence-call the Hellmouth. My studies, together with the close-up investigations of those who know of such phenomena and report to me, suggest that this nexus has a direct link with the Logrus of Chaos." I raised an eyebrow at this, knowing that the central power nexus of the Courts of Chaos contained inconceivable power that could be channeled through any suitable power artifact linked with it. Fiona continued, "This link seems to be of recent origin and is growing in strength. If it is not disabled, the Hellmouth will soon explode, annihilating the shadow in which you stand and creating a chaos storm that will lay waste to the majority of the entire region of shadow."  
  
A Prince of Amber learns early in life to remain composed in the face of apocalyptic danger, for if he cannot, he will never last against his own siblings. However, I allowed myself an impressed whistle at the scope of destruction being calmly described by my sister. I looked at her and asked, "What do you want me to do, sister?"  
  
Fiona wasted no time in answering my question: "You will seek out this Hellmouth, and examine it using your own sorcerous abilities. You will then report back to me about your findings. . .this should take you no more than a few hours local time, as the Hellmouth is close to your current position. Also, I want you to make contact with the local forces that seem to be fighting against the influence of the Hellmouth-the odds are good that one of them will be a local practitioner of magic that will be able to help you sever the local end of the link with the Logrus."  
  
I nodded and asked, "So who are these people? Apocalypse cultists? Knights Templar? Alien refugees? Who?"  
  
Fiona paused for a moment, and for the first time I can remember, she seemed embarrassed as she softly whispered the answer to my question:  
  
"Teenagers."  
  
  
BUFFY  
  
  
Patrol had been largely uneventful, with the local vamp forces still recovering from the aftermath of the Evil Willow fiasco. Willow was still helping Giles with the reconstruction of the library files after the Hellmouth demon trashed the place, and Giles had even drafted Wesley for the duty, keeping the little weasel out of our hair for a while. Faith was still off duty while the Watchers' Council stared at her inkblot tests, wondering if she'd be all right. She seemed better to me, and my bruised arms definitely made me think she was itching to do some serious demon-pummeling. That left Xander and Oz, and they seemed happy to come along with me. Oz had a rough time during the whole Evil Willow incident, and I think he was looking forward to the idea of taking out a few vampires to even the score, both for his girlfriend and the version of her he could not save. As for Xander. . .thinking Willow had died was harder on him than any of us, and though that-thank God-turned out to be just more Hellmouthy weirdness, it was just another nasty incident in what had been a rough year for him anyway.   
  
I saw motion in the corner of my eye and gestured to Xander and Oz in time to call their attention to the four vamps trying to sneak up on us from the left as we moved through the Courtland Cemetery. We were ready as they attacked as a group, two attacking me and one taking on each of my two friends. They were reasonably fit, but I managed to hold them off as I kept an eye on Oz and Xander. Oz is a small guy, but I think that the werewolf problem has left him with some leftover speed and toughness that helps him in these situations-he seemed to be holding his own. Xander was doing better than that-I took a moment to enjoy his performance as he clearly outclassed the vamp he was facing, executing a perfect sweep kick and knocking him on his ass before staking him. Watching him, I felt a little guilty that we had tried to exclude him from the whole save the world again thing, particularly after Angel told me what his sources told him about what Xander had been up to while we were busy. While I pondered the fact that all of our efforts might have been futile without Xander's solo fight against O' Toole's gang, Oz finished off his vamp. A little embarrassed at being outperformed by my friends, I manuevered the two vamps into running into one another, stunning them. I took two stakes and staked the two of them at the same time, causing a way too large cloud of dust that had me coughing as Xander and Oz ran up to me.  
  
I turned to them and grinned, "Hey, no problem. Good job, guys. Let's motor." Oz moved ahead, still wanting to deal with his anger quietly and by himself. I respected his desire and moved into step with Xander. He turned to me and asked, "How much longer are you planning on patrolling, Buffy? I've got a few errands to run tonight before I crash."  
  
I looked at him and couldn't resist. "What's the matter, Xander? Got to make it to the leather store before it closes and leaves you out in the cold with Faith?"  
  
Xander stopped for a moment and took a deep breath, and the expression on his face made me sorry I had kidded him. After a moment, he turned to me and smiled before saying, "My friend, I can guarantee that is absolutely not what I am planning." He sighed and looked at me, commenting, "You know, Willow still has a hard time looking me in the eye. I guess you're pretty disappointed in me, too."  
  
I felt a pang of guilt as I took his hand and looked into his eyes. "Xander, I'm not disappointed in you. It's not as if Faith had fangs and claws, and she was pretty damned heroic that night. It's just like when we were talking about you and Cordy last Valentine's Day. . .I think you can do better. I should have warned you about her. . .she would have moved on to the next conquest, and you wouldn't be hurting right now."  
  
He looked at me and squeezed my shoulder before looking away again and replying, "Don't be so sure that I would have said "No" even then, Buffy. I'm not exactly Mr. Willpower."  
  
I smiled at a sudden memory. "It seems to me you were able to say no in a very similar situation last year."  
  
Xander blushed as he realized what she was talking about. "That was a little different. The whole thing was my fault, and whatever else I screw up, I'm never going to be Date Rape Boy. But if Faith came back to me with the same offer she made that night. . .I'd probably go for it again. How stupid is that?"  
  
I chuckled and replied, "From what Angel said, I gather one of the reasons she was so pissed off at you was that you were managing to resist her. . .offerings. I think your sense of self-preservation will kick in if it comes up again, and who knows. . .maybe her head is screwed on straight now, and you can try it on a more healthy basis. . ." I saw that Oz had paused ahead of us and was sniffing the air. We ran up to him, and Xander asked what we were both thinking: "What are you smelling, Oz-man?"  
  
Oz turned to us and replied in a puzzled tone, "A horse, but it smells funny." He pointed ahead, and we followed the path for about two hundred yards before seeing a mounted figure in the distance. As we approached, the figure remained unmoving, and we stopped about twenty feet away and took a good look.   
  
He seemed to be about six feet tall sitting fully upright in the saddle. He was a redhead, with medium length hair and a well-trimmed beard and mustache. His clothes were red and orange of shades that Cordelia would have killed to have in her wardrobe. A large broadsword hung at his hip. There were three rings on his fingers: one of ruby, one of sapphire, and one emerald. His smiling blue eyes met mine, and I blushed for a moment before I remembered who I was and that this man might be a threat. Still, he might just be a tourist with odd travel accomodations, or some local nut I didn't know. Politeness seemed to be in order. I walked up to him and asked calmly, "Can we help you with something, sir?"  
  
The man on the horse seemed to regard me for a moment, then looked carefully at Xander and Oz. He smiled in the cryptic manner that always annoyed me when Angel did it before we connected, then replied, "Yes, I think that you can. My name is Bleys, and I need to find the Hellmouth."  
  
As always, comments are welcome and desired.  
  
  
  



	2. Part II

Part II  
  
  
BLEYS  
  
"Yes, I think that you can. My name is Bleys, and I need to find the Hellmouth."  
  
The blonde girl seemed taken aback by my reply, and took a moment to think, which gave me a chance to take a good look at her. She was rather petite, being not much larger than Fiona, but I could tell by looking at her that she had done some hard fighting in her young life. Clearly, there was something unusual about this girl. . .and she seemed vaguely familiar for no good reason that I was aware of. She looked casually at me, as if I had simply asked for the time of day and deadpanned, "Hellmouth? Never heard of it."  
  
I sighed: this was going to take some work. "Look, I know that knowledge of the Hellmouth isn't an everyday thing in these parts, but I do know about it. . .and I was also told that the main line of defense against the nasty things that it draws was a bunch of teenagers. Am I correct in assuming that my source was referring to you?"  
  
The girl's eyes narrowed, and I could see evidence of a formidable intelligence regarding me from behind those pretty green orbs. After another moment, she replied bluntly, "Assuming that they were, and that we did know about this Hellmouth that you're talking about, why would we tell some guy on a horse that we've just met? Loose lips sink ships, and all that jazz."  
  
Benedict would certainly approve of her views on security, but still, I would need to convince her to cooperate. "Well, I suppose that you could call the rest of your friends together, since my source suggested that there were more of you, and you could ask me any questions that would make you feel comfortable before letting me know what I wanted to know. That would tend to serve my purposes too, since I had counted on asking for your help in dealing with a messy problem relating to the Hellmouth. Other than that, I don't know what I could do to convince you I'm not an enemy."  
  
"I know!" The blonde whirled in annoyance as the tall, dark-haired boy chimed in. Undaunted, he continued, "How about if he helped us kill those vampires and the two Chaos Demons coming over to attack us?"  
  
The girl and I locked startled glances, then we both turned in the direction he was pointing. Five vampires were approaching, together with. . .they were Chaos Demons! I vaulted out of my saddle and drew my blade, and I could hear the others preparing for combat as Zephyr prudently moved out of the way. I called over my shoulder, "I'll take the Chaos Demons. . .this weapon is very effective against them." Curious, I turned for a moment, and asked, "How did you know that those were Chaos Demons? They're not exactly native to these parts."  
  
The boy smiled grimly and replied, "I heard them described by. . .someone. Slime and antlers-dead giveaway." I laughed at that and charged the two Chaos Demons, my blade Evening Star tracing arcs in the air that made the foul creatures retreat a short distance in dismay. One of the vampires made the mistake of trying to attack me at this point: Evening Star quickly ended the issue with a decapitating blow that left only a pile of burning dust. The demons moved in for the attack, and I assumed a defensive posture, trying to feel out their combat ability. It became rapidly apparent that they were quite good, and the wounds that I gave them only caused light flames before being snuffed: I was going to have to wear them down.   
  
I heard two dying vampire screams behind me; obviously, these kids were pretty good at handling themselves. Good thing, too, as I found myself being sorely pressed by the Chaos Demons-they were just too damned resistant to my Pattern blade, and their own runeblades were giving me some nasty nicks. I was wondering how in hell I was going to salvage this fight when a crossbow bolt hissed over my left shoulder and buried itself in the left eye of one of the demons. It howled and dropped its blade, and I took the opportunity to finish it off with an overhead strike that split its skull and sent its burning body into a heap. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the blond girl was holding a crossbow and was rapidly reloading it. I also noted that her friends were still holding off two vampires. "I've got this one," I called out, not wanting the obviously weaker combatants to risk harm, "go help your friends!" She nodded in acknowledgment, put down the crossbow, and drew out a stake as she moved over to the grimly fighting boys. One on one, the Chaos Demon proved to be less of a challenge, and another minute's of fencing between us resulted in a decapitating blow that sent its flaming head flying off twenty feet, while its smoldering body fell next to its comrades. Breathing a sigh of relief, I turned back to the others.  
  
They were watching me quietly, apparently not quite sure what to say. I decided to break the ice: "Thank you for the assistance, Miss--?"  
  
She was still apparently a bit stunned by the whole thing-it took a moment for her to respond, "I'm Buffy Summers." She pointed at the boy who knew about Chaos Demons and continued, "He's Xander, and the talkative one over there is Oz."   
  
I nodded at Xander and Oz , then asked again, "So, can you take me to the Hellmouth now?"  
  
Buffy sighed, then waved for me to follow. "We need to get the others. Follow us. . .oh, and I think it would be a good idea to find a place to keep your horse. They kind of attract attention here."  
  
I laughed and replied, "Zephyr will be fine here. . .he's not a typical horse." I gave Zephyr a nod and walked up to Buffy. "Let's go."  
  
As we left the scene of the fight, I thought I saw a figure watching us from some distance away. By the time I turned to give the apparition my full attention, it had vanished. I shrugged and continued to follow Buffy.  
  
BUFFY  
  
  
Giles was working in the library when we walked in. It would have been nice if he had been as visibly surprised as we were after encountering Bleys, but he's far too used to strange visitors at this point to be shocked by someone as "normal" looking as Bleys. Willow is a little less jaded, though, and she visibly perked up as we came in and she noticed the strangely dressed man.  
  
Giles looked over Bleys carefully, then asked, "I take it that you're not a refugee from the local Society for Creative Anachronism?"  
  
Bleys looked annoyed, and I decided to let him off the hook. "His name is Bleys, and we found him in the park just before we ran into a bunch of vampires and Chaos Demons in one of the cemeteries. He killed the Chaos Demons, so we figured that he couldn't be all-bad. He says he's looking for the Hellmouth."  
  
Giles now did look rather perplexed, and his reply was rather hesitant: "Ah yes, I see. Chaos Demons? With slime and antlers?" "Yeah, G-man," piped in Xander, to Giles' obvious annoyance, "deluxe package, right out of the factory."  
  
Bleys cleared his throat, and I decided to let him handle further explanations: "Mr. Giles, I am Bleys, Prince of Amber, and I am here to prevent a major catastrophe regarding this Hellmouth of yours." He looked around the room, evidently concentrating, then pointed to the spot that had twice caused us such a headache. "Unless I'm greatly mistaken, the focal point is right there."  
  
Well, I was impressed, and I could see that the others were too. Giles recovered first, and managed "Ah, yes. . .that would be correct. . .Prince Bleys, is it? The Hellmouth, when opened, manifests its nexus directly on the spot you have just indicated. What is the nature of your interest in it? Also, I must apologize: I'm not familiar with Amber."  
  
Bleys grinned, and I could tell he had used that grin for getting some serious snugglebunnies in the past. "Bleys will be sufficient: I'm not hung up on titles. I wouldn't expect you to be familiar with Amber. . .it's a fair distance from here." He spent the next ten minutes explaining who and what he was, and what Amber was. Suffice it to say, he wigged us out quite a bit. It's a rather unpleasant idea to think that all you do in trying to save the world is just a sideshow, with the real important stuff going on elsewhere. Did this all mean that we weren't real? I looked at the expressions on my friend's faces, and could see that similar thoughts were occurring to them. Of course, this guy could just be a nut who happened to be a badass, but my instincts told me otherwise. Giles looked fascinated (of course) then abruptly darted into his office, bringing out a book with the picture of a unicorn on the cover. I snorted and commented, "Where's the little weasel? He's all right with this research crap . . .why not let him be useful for a change?"  
  
Giles looked at me as if to give me a lecture about respecting one's Watcher, then thought better of it. "I sent Wesley home. I decided that the annoyance accompanying his presence exceeded the value of his cataloging efforts, which is saying something." He opened the book and turned a few pages before saying, "Yes. . .the cult of the Unicorn. They believed that the course of the Universe was set by a small number of archetypal beings whose dominant traits were reflected in our everyday world." He closed the book and commented, "Remarkable. . .and your abilities let you travel from universe to universe with relative ease?"  
  
Bleys nodded, and elaborated, "All shadows-what we call the alternate universes-take their form from Amber, with distortions created by distance and proximity to the Courts of Chaos, to which your shadow is relatively 'close.' Also, individuals of importance in a particular shadow are often shadows of the members of the royal family of Amber, since the nature of our existence causes such shadows to be cast even at great distances from Amber." He smiled again, but did not elaborate further.  
  
I had had enough of cryptic for one night, and I interrupted, "All right, so you're Archetype Boy. Good for you. Now what is the problem with the Hellmouth that required someone who is obviously important as you to come out this far?"  
  
Bleys looked a little annoyed, but he quickly recovered and began to explain. "A link has been created between your Hellmouth and the Logrus of Chaos, which is the central source of true power in the Courts of Chaos. This link will draw more and more powerful creatures to your location for a few days longer. . .then the amount of energy pouring through the link will destabilize the Hellmouth, causing it to explode, destroying this shadow utterly and devastating the ones nearby."  
  
I could see the blood draining out of more than a few faces, and I'm sure I didn't look much better. I was getting so damned sick of having to save the world every other week. . .and with Faith on suspension, we were shorthanded. I was thinking of a clever reply to this serious piece of bad news when Angel walked in: "What's going on?"  
  
Somehow, even Angel's arrival wasn't making me feel any better. . .we were in deep trouble.  
  
  
BLEYS  
  
  
I had shaken them, that much was obvious. But they appeared to be made of stern stuff, and it was only a few seconds after Buffy had briefed the new arrival-Angel, who appeared to be a vampire, strangely enough-when she turned to me and asked, "All right, what do we have to do?"  
  
I was pleased that they were so willing to put aside their fear to do what was necessary, and showed that pleasure by not wasting any time. "First, I need to cast a diagnostic spell or two to determine what is necessary." I concentrated and began to weave the appropriate spells. The red-haired girl, Willow, watched me intently: I gathered she was a practitioner of the Art. Not surprising, given what my sapphire ring was telling me about my new allies.  
  
After Caine managed to fool the family with the corpse of a murdered shadow of himself (my brother is quite a piece of work, isn't he?), Fiona decided that at least some of us should have a defense against this little tactic. So she came up with a spell that she cast on my sapphire ring. If I encounter a shadow of one of us, dead or alive, the ring will tell me that fact, and even tell me who the person is a shadow of. The ring was practically leaping off of my hand in telling me there were shadows of Amberites present. Willow: red-haired, highly intelligent, a practitioner of the Art-it didn't take the ring to spot a shadow of Fiona. Giles: studious, taciturn, apparently gifted in the use of arms-clearly a shadow of my brother Benedict. The vampire Angel: handsome, also a gifted fighter, brooding aspect-I wonder how my brother Corwin would feel about being represented in this shadow by a vampire! Xander: loyal, anti-intellectual, a decent fighter in his own right-obviously reflecting Gerard. . .perhaps I should encourage him to weight train. . .he would like the results. Oz seemed to be a reflection of some of the more artistic traits of my brother the King, though his quiet nature was rather different from my youngest brother as I remembered him. But Buffy. . .she wasn't a shadow of one of us at all, and this puzzled me. If anyone in this shadow was a reflection of one of my family, I would expect it to be Buffy, who was apparently the central figure of the entire shadow at that moment. I set aside the minor mystery and finished casting the informational spells. The needed information quickly came to me. I turned to the others, and reported, "We need the following ingredients. . ." and I rattled off a list of twenty ingredients that Willow carefully wrote down, "and I need a local practitioner to help me attune the severing spell correctly; otherwise, my efforts could accidentally trigger the very thing we are trying to stop."  
  
Giles nodded and replied, "Willow and I both have knowledge of the Arts. However, I believe that she is my superior at this point." Willow blushed, and piped up, "Private Willow, reporting for universe-saving duty, sir!" I repressed a smile at this far more innocent aspect of my cynical sister.  
  
Buffy looked over Willow's shoulder at the list and commented, "I have a few of these things at my house. We'll go and get them and bring them back here to conduct the ceremony. Let's motor. . . the night won't last forever." She strode out of the library, Angel at her heels and the others quickly moving to follow. I followed in their wake, impressed at the obvious loyalty she commanded.   
  
The walk was a relatively short and uneventful one, and we approached a two-story house that looked comfortable. Buffy opened the door and motioned for us to follow. "Mom!" she called out, bringing out a blonde woman who resembled a slightly younger Blythe Danner. . .strange, she looked familiar too.   
  
The woman clucked disapprovingly at Buffy and commented, "So, what's wrong? Is the world coming to an e-" I saw her eyes meet mine, and she stopped in what looked like abject shock. "You. . ." she whispered before slumping bonelessly to the carpet. Buffy dropped to the floor and checked her pulse before looking at me in confusion, "She just fainted. . . she'll be all right. . .do you know her?"  
  
I had just realized that I did. . .I looked from Joyce. . .then back to Buffy. . .and the mystery of Buffy's central role in this shadow had abruptly resolved itself. I struggled for a witty phrase to extricate myself from this situation, then fell back on what seemed utterly appropriate, given the gravity of the situation:   
  
"Uh-oh."  
  
  
  
As always, comments are welcomed and desired.  
  
  



	3. Part III

Part III  
  
  
BUFFY  
  
I looked back up at Bleys and I was becoming thoroughly pissed-off. "Uh-oh! What in the hell do you mean by that?" My tirade was interrupted by the sound of Mom waking up, and I turned back to her and softly soothed her, "Mom. . .it's okay, you just fainted. What's wrong?"  
  
Her eyes focused, and she looked at Bleys again and the look of shock returned. "You. . ." Bleys also looked rather shocked, though the shock seemed to be combined with. . .embarrassment? What could that mean? I looked at Mom and asked gently, "Do you know this guy, Mom?"  
  
She got onto her feet, still staring at Bleys. After a minute, she replied softly, "His name is Robert. . .Robert Bleysong. . .I met him some years back."  
  
I heard Xander chuckle sarcastically and comment, "Robert Bleysong? Not much on the incognito thing, are you Bleys?" Nettled, the Amberite turned to Xander and replied, "It's a whimsy my brothers and sisters engage in as well, using some form of our true name when assuming another guise. One of my nephews referred to it as "Brand's Syndrome" after one of my more homicidal relatives, who always made a point of using a form of his name. . ."  
  
Mom was looking more and more confused, and I had had quite enough. "Enough! Bleys, evidently you knew my Mom in the deep and distant past, and whatever it was has her wigged out enough to pass out in front of us. . .something she has never done, to my best knowledge. I want to know what's going on, right now!"  
  
Giles interrupted, looking concerned: "Buffy, perhaps we should postpone this discussion until a more opportune time. . ." I whirled and gave him my death stare, the one I had used to send a room full of vampires fleeing for their lives. He stopped immediately, but gave me one of his annoyed clucks to show that he didn't appreciate such treatment. I mouthed "Sorry" at him and turned back to Bleys. "All right, Amber guy. Spill. Now."  
  
Bleys actually looked flustered for a moment before nodding curtly and sinking into an easy chair. Mom touched my arm and suggested softly, "Perhaps it would be better if your friends waited in the kitchen, Buffy."  
  
I wasn't having any of that. "Mom, if this affects me, then I want them to hear too. Next to you and Dad, they're the closest thing to family I have."   
  
Mom nodded and motioned for all of us to sit down. Looking. . .embarrassed, yes that was it, just like Bleys. . .what was that all about? She began, "It started four days before Hank and I were to be married. He came back to our apartment, drunk, and after a few minutes confessed tearfully to me that he had just slept with a mutual friend of ours, a woman who was to be one of my bridesmaids."  
  
She paused at this point, allowing me to deal with the ick factor of that little piece of information. On the other hand, it explained why the wedding pictures were one bridesmaid short. I took a deep breath and said, "Go on."  
  
Mom continued, "I was furious, and I stormed out of the apartment after telling him to go to hell. I wandered around for a few hours, and found myself in the bar adjoining a trendy restaurant. I had a drink or two. . .and there he was." She paused and looked at Bleys minutely before continuing, "His wardrobe was a little different, though. He was wearing one of those outfits like John Travolta wore in "Saturday Night Fever", with the open shirt and everything."  
  
I heard Xander openly snicker, and a small noise made me turn and see that Giles was biting his lip. Angel, Willow, and Oz were carefully studying the wallpaper design in an apparent effort to avoid looking at Bleys, who was looking even more embarrassed. After a moment, he mumbled, "I was trying to blend, all right?"  
  
In no mood to see the funny in the situation, I motioned for Mom to continue: "Well, I took one look at him and thought, Oh great, another lounge lizard. But he wasn't like that at all. He introduced himself, sat down, and for the next five hours we just talked. He seemed to know about everything, and he was willing to listen to what I had to say. . ."  
  
"I guess some things are the same no matter what universe you're in." Xander chimed in with the snide comment. Mom didn't understand everything that Xander was saying, but she caught the gist of it, and her glare sent Xander to examining the wallpaper along with the others.  
  
Mom cleared her throat, and continued, "Well, when the bar closed, we walked for a while. It was a beautiful night, and well . . .one thing led to another. . ."  
  
All right, this I could do without: "Spare me the icky details, please. What happened next?"  
  
Mom smiled wistfully, and continued, "Afterwards, I was lying there, thinking how wonderful I felt. . .but then I realized that I still loved Hank, and that perhaps this was an opportunity to repair things, since we were 'even.'"  
  
"Sexual revenge. It is an old theme in European and American literature. . ." The observation came from Giles, who received the death glare from Mom, which caused him to turn away. Boy, that wallpaper was getting a good inspection.  
  
Having vanquished her foes, Mom continued, "I told Robert how I felt, and he was completely supportive. He wished me good luck, then he retreated to the bathroom so that I could dress and leave without feeling self-conscious. I never saw him again. . .until now. I went back to Hank and told him everything. . .he was shocked, but decided that it was for the best. We were married as scheduled three days later."  
  
I frowned and commented, "All right, there are things in that story I could have done without hearing, but you and Dad got married anyway, right? What has you so freaked out about a one night stand from nineteen years ago?" Suddenly, a chill began running down my spine. . .there was something about that time frame.  
  
Mom continued, seeing the growing realization in my eyes: "When you were two years old, I took you in for a full physical examination. You had been amazingly healthy up to that point, but I wanted to make sure you didn't have any hidden allergies or other problems that could cause you problems later. When the doctor met with me, he told me that your blood type was an exotic, something that they had never encountered before. For all intents and purposes, it could be treated as AB+, meaning that you could receive any type of blood in a transfusion without problems. . .Buffy, Hank and I both have A- type blood."  
  
I heard noise from beside me as Angel, Willow, and Giles turned around, shocked expressions on their faces. I had a feeling what was coming, but I wanted to hear it from her: "What does that mean, Mom?"  
  
Mom clasped my hands in hers, and explained gently, "It means that Hank isn't your biological father, Buffy." She turned to the silent Prince of Amber and nodded in his direction. "He is."  
  
  
BLEYS  
  
The blood drained out of Buffy's face for a moment, and Angel moved over to see if she was all right, only to stop in his tracks as she made a savage gesture to prevent him from coming closer. Looking deeply concerned, he began, "Buffy-"  
  
Buffy jumped to her feet and snapped at Angel, "Don't even pretend that you have something helpful to say here, Angel. For all your history of woe, I don't think you have a clue of what I'm feeling right now." She paced for a moment, then laughed-it wasn't a pleasant sound-before beginning an impressive tirade: "Doesn't that just fit the rest of my life?! Let's review, shall we? I've got one father who turns out not to be my father. . .not that it matters much anyway, since I hardly ever see him!" She turned on me, and it took a great deal of determination on my part not to wither under that merciless gaze as she continued, "Some dimension-wandering superman from a place I'd never heard of before tonight turns out to be my father. . .and I never would have even known if he hadn't come here by pure coincidence!" She turned on Giles, and I could see him visibly shrink under her glare as she snapped, "Oh, and I shouldn't forget the stuffy Brit who supposedly loves me like a father, except when he's letting the goddamned Watchers' Council run stupid tests on me!" Without another word, she turned on her heel and ran up the stairs, slamming the door to her room.  
  
For a few seconds, no one moved or spoke. Willow broke the shocked silence by looking at Joyce and I and shaking her head in bewilderment before running after Buffy with a visibly angry look on her face. I looked at the others. Giles looked positively crushed and guilty over whatever Buffy had been referring to. Xander looked as if his entire world had been turned upside down. Oz was looking after Willow with concern on his face, and Angel was looking in the same direction, undoubtedly thinking about Buffy. I took a deep breath, and walked over to Joyce, deciding to take whatever she wanted to say to me as my due. "Joyce, I'm sorry. If I'd known. . ."  
  
Joyce turned to me, and I was surprised to see that there was no anger there, only concern. "I know. . .Bleys, is it now? I should have told her a long time ago. . .but I didn't know where you were, and I didn't want to hurt Hank-he doesn't know. I chose freely to do what I did, and having gotten Buffy from it, I'd do it again in a heartbeat." She looked up the stairs, visibly frustrated, and whispered, "I just don't know how she's going to deal with this."  
  
WILLOW  
  
I opened Buffy's door and closed it behind me. She was lying face down on her bed, and snarled "Go away, damn it!"  
  
All right, I thought, this stuff is going to stop right now. I took a deep breath and commented sarcastically, "You know, you're running out of people to yell at. If you don't stop it, we'll have to send for Cordelia, and she's so clueless you'll have to scream at her forever to get her to leave."  
  
Buffy turned over, and I was relieved to see a smile briefly cross her face before it went sad again, and she leaned forward with her face in her hands. "Oh, Willow, my life just SUCKS!"  
  
I sat down beside her and put my hand on her shoulder: she looked up at me with eyes full of tears. "At times like this, I have a hard time arguing with you," I commented, trying to keep the most supportive expression I could, considering what I was about to say to her, "but even so, you need to deal with this better, at least for now." I could see her preparing a nasty retort, so I held up a finger and said, "Shush." She calmed down, and I continued, "We've had enough conversations over ice cream for me to know that you have issues with your father. . .this situation really isn't going to change that one way or another. But Bleys had no good reason to know you even existed-your mother told him she was going on with her life, and he obviously believed her. You should be grateful for the chance to meet him. . .if not as a father, as a friend who seems to be a little less threatened by the forces of darkness than the rest of us." I paused and allowed my expression to show real anger. "As for Giles, you were way out of line, and I know that you know it-we've talked about the whole thing with the Council long enough for me to know what your feelings are on the matter. So you march downstairs and apologize to Giles and be civil to Bleys so that we can save the world again. Afterwards, you can hash it out with your newly discovered father. Got it?"  
  
Buffy looked at me for a long moment, and I felt like Xander must on the occasions when he has pushed her too far, and he's wondering whether Buffy is about to perform a spontaneous amputation on him. Eventually, she smiled, and replied, "All right, all right. . .I give." She got to her feet and we went to the door. Before we went downstairs, she turned to me and asked with a rueful smile, "How did you get to be so tough?"  
  
I fell back on a fitting cliché: "Necessity is the mother of invention."  
  
Scowling, Buffy opened the door and started downstairs, mumbling, "At least someone knows who their parents are."  
  
BUFFY  
  
I headed back downstairs with Sergeant Willow right behind me. . .this was going to be tough. Giles was speaking intently with Bleys, and I walked up beside Mom, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, and waited for the two to notice that I had returned. After a moment, Giles looked over and saw me, and guilt raced across his face as he stammered, "Ah, h-h-hello, Buffy." He removed his glasses and polished them in a gesture I knew was a way of avoiding expression of great emotion. Oh hell, I'd better deal with this before the Great Wall of England cracks, I thought. I walked up to him and locked eyes with him before beginning to speak: "Giles, I know that this. . .problem has nothing to do with you, and dragging you into it was wrong. What I said to you was inexcusable."  
  
Giles put his glasses back on and looked at me for a moment before replying, "Not inexcusable, Buffy, perhaps just a little harsh and excessive. Still, if the only fallout between us for my actions on behalf of the Council is that you are harsh with me now and again, I will consider myself quite lucky." He cleared his throat and changed the subject, "Bleys and I have been discussing some things, and we finally may be able to shed some light on certain mysteries in your past."  
  
"Gee, " I replied sarcastically, "Today must be my lucky day. So what deep dark secrets of Buffy Summers have you two solved?"  
  
Giles, apparently himself again, had the presence of mind to look annoyed as he responded, "Well, I think I have discovered why Kendra was called upon your death while you still remained a Slayer upon reviving. The truth is. . .you didn't."  
  
"Huh?" I managed, not having a clue what he was talking about. "Slower please, and with subtitles."  
  
Giles looked at me, and there was excitement in his face that seemed bizarre given his next sentence:  
  
"Buffy. . .you are no longer the Slayer."  
  
  
  
  
As always, comments are welcomed and desired.  
  
  



	4. Part IV

Part IV  
  
BLEYS  
  
"Buffy. . .you are no longer the Slayer."  
  
My daughter. . .I was still getting over the shock of that concept. . . glared at her Watcher, then walked over to the fireplace and picked up a cast iron poker. With little obvious effort, she bent it into a U shape and tossed it onto the carpet, ignoring the distressed gasp of Joyce. "Kind of knocks a hole in your little theory, doesn't it?" she snapped, glaring at him with a passion that would give credit to any of her relatives on my side.  
  
Joyce complained, "Buffy. . .that was a family heirloom. . ." before trailing off, realizing that she didn't want to upset her daughter right now. Seeing a chance to do Joyce a favor. . .she certainly had some coming under the circumstances. . .I picked up the poker and carefully straightened it. I turned to Buffy and commented, "Slayers aren't the only ones in the cosmos with a little muscle, Buffy." She was quiet, but I could see the wheels turning in her head as she evaluated the situation.  
  
I hastened to elaborate: "Buffy, those of the royal family of Amber have abilities far beyond those typical of shadow dwellers. . .enhanced strength and reflexes, rapid healing, not to mention immortality and other powers related to having power over shadow. Also, more than a few of us are powerful sorcerers." I noticed Willow perk up at that last comment and smiled. Perhaps I should introduce Fiona to her shadow. . .I dismissed the thought for the moment and frowned, for there was still something of a puzzle here. "Ordinarily, children born to the royal family are above average, but they do not assume the true measure of their abilities until they walk the Great Pattern of Amber, which serves as a ritual that awakens their power within them. . .Clearly, you have assumed at least a measure of that power without passing the test of the Pattern. Did you suffer some extraordinarily stressful event in the last few years?"  
  
I heard several muffled snorts and turned to see Willow, Angel, and Xander turning away. I gathered from this reaction that Buffy indeed had, and Giles confirmed it by saying quietly, "She died."  
I was shocked at this news, and Giles gave me a sympathetic look before continuing, "Buffy, after Kendra showed up in Sunnydale, I began researching to see if anything similar had happened before. Not long ago. . .I found a case where a Slayer had fallen through ice and drowned. She was able to be revived due to the cold, which prevented brain damage, but. . ."  
  
Buffy waited a moment, then snapped impatiently, "But what?" Giles looked at her with sympathy, and continued, "The girl awakened and lived a normal life. . .as an ordinary mortal."  
  
I saw Buffy go white and sink to the couch. After a moment, she turned to Giles and asked, "So if I'd been fully human, I'd have lost my powers. . ." She turned to me and commented, "Suddenly I'm liking you a lot more." Her eyes looked haunted, as if she were remembering some truly unpleasant incident.   
  
Giles continued, "Buffy, we don't fully understand what happens when a Slayer is called, but the best theory I've seen is that the Chosen One is possessed by some form of benevolent spirit that enhances the Slayer's physical and mental abilities. When a Slayer dies, the spirit moves on to the next candidate. That is apparently why Kendra was called. . .but the stress involved in dying at the Master's hands apparently triggered some of the abilities inherent in your heritage."  
  
Buffy's face went blank for a moment, then she said hesitatingly, "I remember waking up with Xander and Angel standing over me. . .they were worried that the draining would leave me weak, but I felt stronger than I ever had as the Slayer. When I fought the Master again, we did it as equals, and he underestimated me. . .he thought those little mind games would stop me again, but I brushed him off with no problem." He looked at Giles and asked quietly, "You mean that was because I was Bleys' daughter, and not because I was the Slayer?"  
  
Giles nodded, and commented, "Probably the power of Amberite blood is substantially greater than even that of Slayers. The Master stopped draining you because he had gained enough power to escape, not realizing that you were not yet certain to stay dead." He frowned and commented, "That doesn't explain why you retained the combat skills that you possessed as the Slayer."  
  
"Amberites' minds are different from ordinary humans," I explained, watching Buffy to make sure that all of this wouldn't be overwhelming for her: she listened patiently, looking at me attentively, "they have to be, since we are immortal. . .a normal human mind is not arranged correctly to deal with the information and experience in a millennias long lifetime. Buffy was simply able to retain the information that had been bestowed upon her, whereas a normal human stripped of the Slayerspirit would just not have the capacity to do so."  
  
Buffy nodded, then her face turned to all business. "All right, I guess I can live with that for now. Right now, we have a universe to save. Mom, say your good-byes to. . .Bleys. Willow, come up and help me with the items on the list. Everyone else, wait outside." She turned and walked up the stairs, Willow right behind her. The others left quietly, and I had but a moment to exchange a look of pride with Joyce before I took my leave of her with an expression of thanks.  
  
  
  
  
FAITH  
  
  
Whoever the guy was, he was wicked with that sword. He and Buffy, with some help from those geeks Xander and Oz, finished off the vampires and those nasty looking demons with no big hassle. I saw them shooting the breeze for a while, and then they headed off towards the school. I saw the big redheaded guy look my way, but I melted into the shadows and headed for the Boss' office: I knew that he'd want to know about this.  
  
The vamp at the door nodded me in and I was in with the Boss. He was fiddling around with his putter, and as usual he couldn't sink a putt to save his life. He looked at me and smiled, "Faith! I didn't expect to see you tonight." He pointed at the desk and asked, "Milk? Or how about some prunes?"  
  
I managed not to roll my eyes, wondering how it was that out of all of the evil masterminds I could have hooked up with, how did I manage to find the one who seemed to be channeling Kathy Lee?  
Still, he was sweet most of the time, and he got me that great apartment and Playstation. I replied, "Boss, I think there's a new player in town. Big guy, red hair, beard, carries a nasty-ass sword."  
  
He raised his finger and tut-tutted. "Language, Faith." I nodded in apology, and he continued, "Yes, I know. I've had spies reporting in tonight, and there are emanations that point to the arrival of such an individual." He smiled that weird smile at me and asked me, "Was that what you had to report, my dear?"  
  
I was kind of puzzled by his attitude. "Uh, Boss. . .aren't you wondering what a seriously nasty guy is doing hanging out with Buffy and her geek friends?"  
  
He smiled and looked at me, replying, "I know exactly why he's here, Faith. The Hellmouth is acting up again, and he is going to help Buffy and her friends fix it."  
  
I nodded and asked, 'So what do you want me to do, Boss? Sneak around and see if I can mess up their plan?"  
  
He looked at me and smiled again, commenting, "Faith, your predecessor was an able servant. . .but I prefer you by far. Do you know the most important reason?"  
  
I was tempted to make a smart-assed remark, but he had already turned down the most blatant pass I could make without stripping with a stern warning to cut it out. Clearly, my scrumptious body was not what kept him interested in me. "No, Boss, what is it?"   
  
He looked at me with an expression that I didn't recognize, never having seen it before. He walked up to me and took my hand, staring down at me with sad eyes. "Faith, Trick was set in his ways. He obeyed me, but he did things his way. Now you, you're still young. . .if I tell you something is important, you see it from an untainted perspective, and you can still learn from it." He looked at me inquisitively and asked, "Do you remember when you helped keep those nasty Apocalypse demons from opening the Hellmouth?" I nodded, and he continued, "Don't you think that I could have upset that little applecart by sending Trick over to the school with a dozen or so vampires and disrupting your ritual enough so that the Hellmouth demon would kill all of you?" I thought for a moment, then nodded. I knew of some of the resources he had access to, and what he had described would have been a simple matter. I was curious now and asked, "Why didn't you, Boss?"  
  
He laughed and replied, "For the same reason I didn't help the Master and later Angelus when they had plans to destroy the world. . .it didn't serve my interests. I need the world to still be here to complete my Ascension, so when someone tries to destroy it, I'm inclined to get out of the way of anyone who might stop the fools from succeeding." He saw I looked confused and commented, " I know what you're thinking, Faith. If we are evil, why would we help the causes of good. The reason is. . .because it helps us. One of the reasons that good does as well as it does is that us evil folk tend to plot against each other as much as we do against good: they gain by our fratricide. On the other hand, though, we can use good to kill off rivals and to deal with nasty situations like this one. . .my sources indicate that if Buffy and this stranger fail, the entire universe could be destroyed."  
  
I whistled, then narrowed my eyes at him. "So, what's my job here, Boss?" He looked at me and ordered gently, "I want you to go to Buffy and the others and volunteer to help." He must have seen the disgust on my face, because he hastened to explain. "Faith, they have to succeed, or we've all got a big problem. The worst that they can do is to say no, in which case you're no worse off, and probably get a pat on the back for willingness to help. If they say yes, you get scads of brownie points and can report back to me any juicy details we've missed."  
  
I nodded at him, then laughed. "I may become the only Slayer to save the world from both good and evil sides." He nodded at me then motioned for me to leave. I did, wondering for the zillionth time why I wasn't there. No money for books or fun. Oh well. Off to work.  
  
  
  
  
As always, comments are welcomed and desired.  
  
  



	5. Part V

Part V  
  
BLEYS  
  
We traveled back to the library with little conversation and no hostile attention. Once there, Giles, Willow, and I began setting up the ritual circle in accordance with the local rules of magic that I had divined, and which Giles and Willow instructed me in some specifics. After a couple of hours, we had completed the preliminaries, which included setting an enchanted taper to burn until the next sunset. . .we would have a wait on our hands. I looked around and saw that Xander and Oz had dozed off in their chairs, and Willow quickly joined them in slumber. Angel commented that dawn was rapidly approaching and bade us all goodnight. Giles nodded to me and retired to his office. . .leaving me alone with my daughter for the first time. She looked at me, and I could see that any fatigue she felt was completely overwhelmed by curiosity. "So, tell me about them."  
  
I looked at her innocently and replied, "Tell you about who, Buffy?" She glared at me and growled, "You know very well about what. I have a family I didn't know anything about until a few hours ago. . .don't you think that I might want to know about them?"  
  
I nodded gravely and replied, "I suppose so," then began to give her an overview of the family history. I told her of the founding of Amber by Dworkin, and how Oberon-his son, my father-- had ruled it for millennia. I told her how Oberon had run through many wives, resulting in a flock of half-siblings that didn't always care for one another. I told her of my dead siblings, both those I had known and those who had passed on centuries before my birth. She listened raptly as I told her of the events surrounding the Patternfall War, including the disappearance and reappearance of Corwin, our doomed attempt to oust Eric, and brother Brand's mad plot to destroy the Pattern and with it the universe. I described each of my living brothers and sisters, and their children: brilliant Benedict, moody and dauntless Corwin, mighty Gerard, powerful Fiona, and all of the others. I showed her the Trumps with their pictures, and explained their function. By the time I finished, the sun was high in the sky, but the others were still sleeping. Buffy had been silent for some time, and seemed to be about to speak when an odd little man came storming into the library and surveyed the scene, scowling.  
  
I could feel the hostility radiating from Buffy as she looked at the man and commented, "Principal Snyder. . .don't you have any small animals to torment. . .bridges to lurk under?" The man glared at her and replied, "Very funny, Summers. Just because the school board won't let me expel you doesn't mean that I can't make your life unpleasant. . .and I don't recall the library being made over into a dormitory, or whatever other weird things you seem to be involved in." He looked over and saw the ritual circle, and his eyes widened as he shouted, "Now, you've gone too far this time! This is a school, not some refugee camp for you Goth wackos-"   
  
Sensing that this was not good, I grabbed Snyder by the shoulder and spun him around as the others woke up and looked at the scene with bleary-eyed concern. Snyder began to say, "You're looking at a lawsuit, Bud-", then stopped as I locked eyes with him and the power of my mind fell upon him. He stared blankly as Buffy asked hesitatingly, "What did you do to him, Bleys?"  
  
I smiled and replied, "The mind of an Amberite is very powerful, Buffy. In close contact, or using psychic artifacts such as Trumps, we can impose our will on those with weaker minds. . .of course, the Trumps always pose the risk of exposing us to an even more powerful mind, such as one of our relatives." I was receiving mental images from Snyder as I spoke, and I realized quickly that while he was a nasty little bastard, he was not involved in the matter of the Hellmouth or directly with any other evil enterprises in this town, though he covered up things at the behest of higher-ups. I stared into his eyes and gave him a few mental commands: as the others watched, he walked over to Buffy, bowed, and called out, "Forgive me for my transgressions against you, Lady Buffy of the royal family of Amber." He kissed her hand, then left the library without further ado as the others gaped. Buffy grinned and commented, "I could learn to like this," just as a man who looked like a younger version of Giles entered the library with a beautiful dark-haired girl who seemed to be a little younger than Buffy. He seemed normal, but my ring told me that she was a shadow of my doomed sister Deirdre. . .she must be Faith, the Slayer who had run into some recent problems. The man looked around the room, puzzled, before snapping, "What in the world is going on here? Why wasn't I called if something important was happening?"  
  
"Question kind of answers itself, doesn't it?" Xander commented, drawing snickers from Oz and Willow and an amused snort from Giles, who had just emerged from his office. Ah, this had to be Wesley, the new Watcher who was held in such contempt by the others. I sized him up. . .no fighter, this one, and a taint of cowardice. . .still, he seemed bright, and if he survived his apprenticeship here, perhaps he would amount to something. I began to open my mouth to explain things, only to be interrupted by my daughter.  
  
"Wesley, Faith, this is Bleys. . .Prince of Amber. He's told us that the Hellmouth is about to blow sky-high and destroy the entire universe. Don't suppose you'd like to start helping and stop bitching, Wesley?" I noted that she omitted the matter of our relationship, and I also noted that the others seemed to pick up on her omission, as Wesley hemmed and hawed for a moment before looking at me and exclaiming, "Amber? Wait a minute. . .that's right, the Unicorn cult! You're an archetypal representation of some great truth of reality. . .remarkable." He pointedly moved toward the stacks, only to have an annoyed Giles toss him the appropriate tome. I repressed a smile. . .apparently this young fellow was Giles' equal at research, if nowhere else.  
  
Faith moved over to me with a vaguely predatory look on her face, taking my arm. "So, you're a prince, huh? Sounds interesting. . .tell me more." The strength of the grip on my arm reminded me that she was a Slayer, and as such was far more physically formidable than her appearance would suggest. Fully aware of the appalled gazes of Buffy and her friends, I disentangled myself from Faith and replied, "I'd love to, Faith, but now might not be the best time. . .perhaps once we solve this crisis, we can all sit down and talk about my homeland." Faith looked disappointed, and everyone other than Wesley looked relieved.  
  
Buffy turned to Faith and asked, "Why are you here, Faith? You usually don't get up anywhere near this early."   
  
Wesley walked over to Buffy and replied, "She stopped by my apartment about an hour ago. She was out last night informally, in preparation for her re-certification by the Council, and she heard things about some impending disaster, though she wasn't able to get too many details. . .though apparently you were." He puffed himself up, and continued, "Given the stakes involved here, if the matter here will require extra fighters, I believe that the Council will support my decision to temporarily put Faith back on duty to deal with those requirements."  
  
I saw Giles roll his eyes and was inclined to agree: Wesley was a bit of a pompous ass; however, I knew that we would need every fighter we could get. I could see Buffy had doubts-she looked at the ceiling for a long moment before turning to the Slayer and smiling wanly. "Welcome to the party, Faith." She clasped hands with the younger girl, and I saw a startled look cross Faith's face before she smiled and returned the handshake.  
  
Sensing that this was a good moment to interject, I commented, "All right, now that that's settled, let's discuss our likely opponents during the daylight hours. It's clear that some power in the Courts of Chaos is using the Hellmouth as a means of gaining increased Shadow-wide power, so they will send various forms of Chaos creatures against us. Here's what I know about fighting them . . ."  
  
  
*****  
  
BUFFY  
  
Bleys wasn't kidding about those Chaos creatures being nasty. Fast, strong, not to mention the fact that they regenerated. Still, they couldn't grow heads back, and a thrust to the heart seemed to be just as fatal as it would be for a vampire. Fortunately, it was Saturday, so we could take the battle outdoors without much risk of being spotted by the less than attentive Sunnydale police. In the seven hours before dusk, we managed to take out fifteen of them with no casualties and only bruises otherwise. I was not thrilled with the prospects of dealing with whatever they would throw at us when we were actually performing the ritual. Still, a victory is a victory, and I was feeling rather good about what we had accomplished. We were all back in the library, and I was about to ask Bleys what would be coming next when he seemed to suddenly stare off into space. "What's wrong?", I asked. He gestured for me to be quiet, then whispered, "I'm getting a message." He "listened" for a moment, then extended his hand. Suddenly, an outline appeared, and a beautiful red-haired woman wearing a green dress appeared, holding Bleys' hand. She smiled and whispered, "Thank you, brother," and immediately began to survey her new surroundings. Her eyes focused on me, and I began to blush under the attention.  
  
The woman turned to Bleys with a question on her face, and Bleys quickly shook his head. She nodded, and commented, "Well, Bleys, aren't you going to introduce us to our new allies?" He nodded and introduced all of us to her: "May I present Fiona, Princess and Sorceress of the Court of Amber." He introduced her to each of the others individually, and I was pleased to see that the others managed to keep their cool. He saved my introduction for last, and I took a deep breath before taking her hand: I gathered from Bleys' stories that she was one of the most potent magic wielders in the entire universe, and I had spent enough time as a rat, thank you very much. She shook my hand with a firm grip and leaned over to whisper in my ear, "We'll have a lot to talk about later, Buffy." I managed to keep my composure and nodded as she turned to face her brother.  
  
Bleys was frowning as Fiona turned back to him. "Why did you need to come, Sister? We seem to have things well in hand here without your assistance."  
  
Fiona looked visibly concerned as she replied, "I've come into new information since we last spoke, and I believe that you will need my help in dealing with this problem, Bleys." She paused for a moment, then continued, "I've been operating under the assumption that this whole thing is a plot by one of the rogue Lords of Chaos, and that either we could deal with it through simple magical operations, or by petition to our nephew the Emperor of Chaos if things got nasty. Unfortunately, things have gotten far worse. . .Bleys, I've found unmistakable signs that an Avatar is involved. . .and the worst one we could conceive of." She took a deep breath, and her next words turned my blood to ice as I remembered the stories my father had told me just hours ago.  
  
"Bleys, Brand is back."  
  
  
  
As always, comments are welcomed and desired.  
  
  



	6. Part VI

Part VI  
  
BLEYS  
  
"Bleys, Brand is back."  
  
I saw Buffy go pale as Fiona spoke, and I wasn't feeling much better about it. Giles saw the three of us were deeply distressed, and asked quietly, "Forgive me for asking, but the rest of us are in the dark here. . .who is Brand?" I explained quickly, with the others in the room looking visibly appalled at what Brand had tried to do. . .and almost accomplished. After I finished, Wesley looked puzzled, and asked, "Well, that certainly was an unpleasant story. . .but from what you've told us, Brand is very dead, thanks to the marksmanship of Caine. What's the problem?"  
  
Xander snickered and commented, "Well, considering our history with demons you thought were dead. . ." only to be interrupted by a look from Buffy. He fell silent as Fiona nodded and replied, "Ordinarily, of course, you'd be correct, Wesley; however, Brand died under very unusual circumstances. He was in a state of greatly heightened power and was carrying the most potent object of power in the universe when he died. . .my observations indicate that he was able to project his life force into the Great Abyss of Chaos, where he waited and watched for an opportunity to manifest again. The Hellmouth, with its minor connection to the Logrus of Chaos, presented a perfect opportunity. He reached out with his mind and began manipulating the connection, making it stronger and stronger. The effects have been visible here for the last three years, your time."  
  
I saw Buffy's face darken, and she whispered bitterly, "Yes, they have." Giles walked behind her and put his hand on her shoulder as Fiona continued, "When he grew powerful enough, he was able to influence creatures of Chaos and give them access to this shadow, in order to thwart any efforts to stop his plan. Unfortunately, it was only a few hours ago that his operations created such a disturbance that I was able to detect him in spite of his efforts to conceal himself: I was then able to work backwards and discern what he had done. . .and what he would do. Just before the connection is due to explode the shadow, he intends to appear here and absorb all of the energy. If he succeeds, he will be more powerful than he ever was."  
  
I frowned and commented, "Well, we're ready to prevent that. . .and that will certainly cause him to try to interfere with us. Did your studies indicate how and when he would manifest himself?" Fiona nodded and replied, "By my calculations, if he uses all of his power to increase his strength rather than gather allies, he should be powerful enough to manifest in three hours; fortunately, he will be somewhat less powerful than he would be if he waited until the Hellmouth was ready to explode. Still, he will be quite formidable. There's more bad news. . .I've tried all of the others, but they're either incommunicado or engaged with serious crises of their own. I suspect Brand has manipulated matters to lessen the potential resistance to his re-emergence. According to what I've been able to make out, Brand will manifest as one of the most powerful beings of this shadow. . .the being with the most intimate connection to the Hellmouth itself."  
  
I frowned and turned to the others. "Who would that be, Giles?" Abruptly I noticed that Buffy had gone pale again, and her expression briefly suggested primal fear before she squelched it. Concerned, I walked over to Buffy and noted that Giles' expression was grim. I looked at him and asked again, "Who is it, Giles?"  
  
"The Master." The voice came from the stacks, and Angel appeared, walking down the stairs and coming over to me. Seeing that I still wasn't enlightened, he continued, "The vampire lord who tried to open the Hellmouth. . .the one who killed Buffy."  
  
*****  
  
FIONA  
  
Buffy looked scared, though she tried hard to hide it, and Bleys was looking more than a little unhinged himself. Small wonder. . .to find a daughter unexpectedly, only to see her immediately exposed to mortal danger. I had picked the information out of his surface thoughts when I Trumped him. . .it would have been impossible to miss, as it was foremost there. Remarkable, the level of power she had manifested even without walking the Pattern. . .she would be a worthy addition to the family, if we all survived this crisis.   
  
Faith chose this moment to comment, "Hell, B kicked his ass before, and she's got a lot more firepower backing her up this time. Right, B?" Buffy still looked shaken, but turned to Faith and snapped, "Damn right, Faith." She looked determined, and I hated to bring further bad news to challenge her resolve, but she deserved to know. "Buffy, it won't just be the creature you defeated. . .he'll also have a measure of Brand's own power to strengthen him . . .he will be undoubtedly the most formidable foe you have ever faced."  
  
Buffy sighed and replied, "That should be the title of my autobiography, since I hear it like, once a month." She brightened and commented, "But there are two of you here, right? . . .you have him outnumbered." I met her determined gaze and replied, "Bleys will be needed to help Willow complete the ritual. . .and I will have to use all of my attention to neutralize Brand's most dangerous powers. . .and the others will have to hold off his Chaos allies. . .you will have to be the one who holds him off until the ritual is done. . .and I fear you may not be strong enough yet, Buffy. You have assumed far more of your true power than any of us did without walking the Pattern, but. . ." A dangerous thought entered my mind. . .* yes, it could work, there's still enough time. . .but should she risk it? * I turned to Bleys and met his gaze: he nodded, and I turned to Buffy. "Buffy, there is one thing that might do it, but it carries great risk." I took a deep breath, and told my niece something we all had heard at one time in our youth: "Buffy, you need to walk the Pattern."  
  
BUFFY  
  
I took a long moment to take that idea in. . . * wow, a day ago I'm a Slayer with a world full of hassles, and now I'm an ex-Slayer with the chance to do something that could make me a god. . .if I live through it. * I looked back at her and replied, "Given the alternative, I think I'm up for it. How do we get there?"  
  
Wesley chose this moment to interrupt. "Wait just a minute! What is this Pattern, and what will happen to Buffy if she walks it?" Bleys replied, "The Great Pattern of Amber is the center of all order in the universe: it was what Brand tried to destroy to remake reality in his image. Its physical manifestation is a complex pattern of lines that rests within the lower levels of Castle. A member of the Royal Family of Amber who walks the design successfully gains the ability to consciously manipulate shadow and gains the full measure of an Amberite's physical abilities, though they still may improve those abilities further based on training and special aptitude."  
  
Faith frowned, and asked, "What does that have to do with Buffy?" I was about to open my mouth to fill them in when Fiona interrupted, "My brother Bleys wandered this area of shadow many years ago and became. . .ah. . .involved with one of Buffy's female ancestors. He recognized some family traits when he met Buffy, and some magical tests confirmed the relation." I kept my mouth closed and stared at my aunt. * Wow. . .Bleys wasn't kidding about his relatives' ability to lie at will. * Wesley and Faith seemed satisfied with the explanation, but Giles asked, "Are there any risks involved?"  
  
Bleys nodded and replied, "Once one steps on the Pattern, they must complete the walk or die. It has only happened once, but the effects are well known. That is why one of us always watches from nearby to offer advice when a young Amberite attempts their first Pattern walk." He turned to me and said, "I'll take you, Buffy. Fiona can handle the ritual here better than I can. . .and I have a feeling that she and Willow will work well together. There won't be any more attacks yet. . .Brand will conserve his forces for when he is ready to manifest."  
  
Wesley frowned and commented, "Ordinarily, I'd be reluctant to risk sending a Slayer into such a dangerous situation without supervision. . .but given the stakes, I suppose we have no choice. You may proceed, Buffy."  
  
I was annoyed, but suddenly I remembered something that caused me to grin broadly. I turned to Wesley and replied, "Oh, Wesley. . .apparently I ceased being the Slayer after the Master killed me. . .so, and I do mean this in the most rude and unpleasant way possible. . .you're fired." I turned to Faith and apologetically commented, "The little weasel's all yours, Faith. . .my sympathies." I looked around the rest of the room, and took great pleasure in the enjoyment my friends, particularly Giles, were taking in my nasty comment. Faith looked annoyed, and Wesley was looking to Giles for an explanation. . .I was sorry that I was going to miss that, but time was short. . .and I had a seriously nasty rite of passage to complete. I turned to my father and whispered, "Let's go."  
  
BLEYS  
  
I pulled out the Trump that I had drawn in the aftermath of Patternfall, when I realized that it was important to be able to reach the Pattern on short notice. I concentrated on the scene, and it quickly took on a semblance of reality. I took Buffy's hand and we walked forward. . .ending up in the dark cavern lit only by the glowing blue lines of the Pattern. We were standing but five feet from where the entry point was, and I could see Buffy staring at it with trepidation.   
  
I motioned for Buffy to sit, and for the next ten minutes I told her what she would need to know regarding her ordeal. I told her of how the path would exert a drag on her as she walked, and that it would vary at times. I warned her of the sparks that would shoot up as she walked, and that they could not hurt her. I told her of the First and Second Veils, and how they would challenge her endurance as she moved through them, and her mind as old memories would be dredged up. I described the long, tedious path of the Grand Curve. Lastly, I told her of the Final Veil, and how it would be a formidable obstacle even as the final goal rested tantalizingly close. When I had finished, she looked at me and shook her head, commenting, "Couldn't you people have just come up with a bar mitzvah or something?" I laughed, and placed my hand on her shoulder. I took a deep breath, and replied, "Right now, I wish we had. But you've been a survivor long before you ever heard of Amber, and I have complete confidence in you. Good luck."  
  
She met my gaze and nodded, then turned to the Pattern and walked right up to the starting point. I heard her take one more deep breath, then she stepped onto the line, her foot immediately being outlined in electric blue.  
  
BUFFY  
  
My foot went down onto the line, and I felt an odd buzzing feeling, like an electric charge, but not painful. I could feel the line tugging at my feet as I went along, but it was not enough to really slow me down, and I continued along the line as it curved along. After a few minutes, I felt the resistance increase, and sparks began to fly up around me. They were pretty. . .it was a shame that I couldn't stop and watch them. I also noticed that there seemed to be an aura of blue flame around me: it was a shame that no one could get some videos of this. . .I bet they would look cool.  
  
As I struggled along, I began to see images from my past. . .my early childhood went by in a blur, then I saw my cousin die horribly at the hands of the Kindestod . . .then high school, where I was cool until Merrick showed up and gave me the whole destiny trip to deal with. . .burning down the gym and getting kicked out of school in LA. . .arriving in Sunnydale and meeting Giles, Willow and Xander. . .oh God, the Master grabbing me and leaning to bite. . .I staggered and almost fell. I could hear Bleys shout, "Buffy! Don't let the memories distract you!"  
  
I straightened and shouted back, "Easy for you to say, Dad!" * Wow, I just called him "Dad". . .I guess I'm dealing with this, after all * I gritted my teeth and continued, as the memories continued to flow. After a moment, I took a deep breath, since I knew that the worst ones were approaching. But then the pressure ceased, and I realized that I had passed the First Veil. I was relieved, since the memories that I was re-living now were all I could bear: Angel turning evil after we made love. . .Jenny's death and my having to save Giles from Angel. . .facing Angel and, later, the Kindestod with a fever that had me in delirium. . .then, the whole Acathla mess, with Kendra dying and my having to ally with Spike to stop Angel. . .At this point, I felt the resistance increase. . .* oh God, I'm hitting the Second Veil and these memories are the worst of all. . .how can I make it? * As I struggled along against the resistance of the Second Veil, with sparks and blue flame everywhere, I focused on Angel's face. . .whatever he had gone through, he was back with us now. I kept that image throughout the whole horrible memory re-living of last June, and when it was done, so was the Second Veil. I painfully turned to the now distant figure of Bleys and nodded at him, then continued along the path.   
  
I soon reached the Grand Curve, and the sparks and flames were more intense than ever. * I'd love to run into some demon looking like this. . .I'd scare them silly * The memories continued to flow, and they had just reached Angel's attempted suicide when I exited the Grand Curve.  
  
I was almost exhausted, but the end was in sight and I was not going to give up. . .no way that was happening. The unpleasant memories of my Cruciamentum, the opening of the Hellmouth, Faith's problems, and the arrival of Evil Willow passed rather quickly, and as I began to feel the resistance that I knew had to be the Final Veil, my memories had taken me to the present. Could it be that it would just be a matter of toughing it out without distractions?. . .somehow I doubted it.  
  
The pressure from the Final Veil was the worst so far, and my pace slowed to a crawl as I stared at the center of the Pattern, only a few yards ahead. So close. . .I drew on every last ounce of determination I had as I inched along. Suddenly, I began to hear a whispering voice. . ."you're not worthy of this. . .every time things get rough, you bail. . .why don't you just stop. . .rest here. . .it'll all be over and you won't have to deal with all of this crap any more. . .do you really think you can beat Brand?. . .you're just a pathetic child. . . what makes you think you can win?"  
  
Rage blossomed within me, and I felt a new reserve of energy flow into me as I snarled, "Because I have to! And I just love proving people who underestimate me wrong. . .I guess you get to be the latest." Agony lanced through me as I took one, two, three steps. . .and fell into the center of the Pattern. My first instinct was to shout in triumph, but some debts were being called in, and I fell into darkness.  
  
BLEYS  
  
I saw her collapse, and I was briefly concerned before realizing that she had succeeded. . .but how long would she be unconscious? Time was of the essence now. I shouted her name, trying to get her attention. . .and after a few minutes, I saw her stir, then leap to her feet. She looked around and saw me standing there. I started clapping, just because it seemed right. She bowed, then called out, "Please tell me I'll never have to do that again."  
  
I called back, "I can't promise that, but you won't have to do it again to claim your birthright, Buffy. . .you are an Amberite, with all that implies, as of now."  
  
She seemed to contemplate that for a moment, then called out, "I can live with that, Bleys. . .all right, now how do I get out of here?"  
  
I grinned and replied, "That's the great part of it, Buffy. Having completed the walk of the Pattern, you can use it to travel anywhere in the universe instantaneously. Just think of where you want to be, and you'll be there in an instant."  
  
Buffy nodded, and I thought I saw her smile before she vanished. I took a moment to deal with a feeling of absolute pride before pulling out Fiona's Trump and concentrating on it.  
  
BUFFY  
  
I grinned and thought * So, anywhere I want, huh? * I concentrated for a moment, and the view changed instantly from the center of the Pattern to Angel's startled face. I grabbed him and pulled him down for a frantic kiss. He resisted for a moment, and made concerned noises when he realized that I was actually stronger than him now. I released him and looked up with a grin. He smiled grimly and commented, "I guess that I'm going to have to change tactics in our training sessions from now on."  
  
I nodded and replied, "You're a clever man. . .I doubt that you'll be at a loss at how to deal with it." I looked around and saw the others staring at me. Faith seemed to have a seriously worried expression on her face before she managed to assume a poker face. The others seemed to be happy just to see me. I noticed Wesley was missing and asked Giles, "Where did the weasel go?"  
  
Giles replied, "He was in a rather bad mood once you fired him, and the verbal abuse that followed convinced him that anywhere else would be a better place to be than here. I expect he's composing a report to the Council."  
  
I grinned and commented, "Good, that will keep him out of our hair for a while." I saw Fiona extend her hand, then Bleys appeared, nodding to his sister. I looked around and was satisfied. No matter how nasty this Brand guy was, I was confident we could kick his ass. . .I had the best allies anyone could hope for.  
  
  
As always, comments are welcomed and desired.  
  
  



	7. Part VII

Part VII  
  
BLEYS  
  
Fiona and Willow sat next to the mystic circle, chanting softly. The energy matrix that would sever the connection between the Logrus and the Hellmouth was visible now, and rapidly growing in intensity. Unfortunately, Fiona would soon have to cease in order to prepare for Brand's arrival, and even with the time she saved us with her superior expertise, we would still need to hold off Brand and his minions for twenty minutes before the matrix was completed and the connection severed. . .it would not be easy to hold off my mad brother for that long.   
  
I looked at the wall clock: Brand would be here in thirty minutes. I looked around to see what the others were doing. Buffy appeared to be lost in thought: she was clearly gathering herself for the trial to come. Faith was honing a wicked-looking broadsword: she noticed me and winked, then went back to her task. Giles and Angel were discussing melee tactics to be used against the Chaos creatures. . .wise, since they and Faith would be bearing the brunt of the fight against Brand's allies. Oz was preparing a crossbow and had two long knives at his belt: he would be the last line of defense to prevent Fiona from being distracted from her primary task of neutralizing Brand's dangerous teleportation and Logrus abilities. Xander finished loading the duffel bag with the items that he and Giles had procured while Buffy was on her Pattern walk, and nodded to everyone before walking toward the doors. I followed him out and called out to him, "Xander."  
  
The young man turned to me and replied, "Yeah, what's up, Bleys? Going to give me a pep talk from the grandmaster of combat himself?" I smiled at his ability to be humorous in nasty situations, and replied, "Not really, Xander. . .from what I hear and from what I saw today, you're more than capable of handling this job. . .just be careful. You've got a lot of friends who don't want you to die out there. . .and I owe you a debt of gratitude for saving my daughter's life." I clasped his shoulder and nodded at him one more time. "Good luck, Xander." I then turned and re-entered the library. Buffy had told me that Xander's confidence had been shaken this year, and I thought that the talk would help keep him focused. . .not to mention that I didn't have to lie in order to do it. . .strange thing, that.  
  
As I walked back in, Fiona called out, "It's time, Bleys." I nodded and took her place, beginning to chant where she left off. It would only be a matter of time now.  
  
XANDER  
  
I finished fastening myself to my perch with the cables and looked out into the darkness towards the spot where my targets would appear. Far too dark for me to see, as expected. I reached into the bag and pulled out the nifty low-light goggles that I appropriated when Cordy and I got the rocket launcher last year. . .all right, "stole" would be more accurate, but it certainly was called for under the circumstances, and as long as we were there, I figured that we could use the nifty hi-tech gadget for something useful later on. . .I hated being right-at least in this case.  
  
I looked at my watch: three minutes to go. Just then, the world went utterly silent. I still breathed, but I could not hear it: my hammering heart was silent. * Thank you, Fiona. . .right on schedule. * I looked through the goggles and this time was rewarded with a relatively clear view of the parking lot. I checked the sniper rifle and made sure that its five shot clip was fully loaded. After that, I watched the lot intently, but my traitorous mind began to wander.  
  
* Buffy's become this. . .goddess person. Bleys says that Amberites are immortal unless killed, and that they can go anywhere they want, real or "fantasy", since all things exist in Shadow. Damn, with all of that. . .what do we have to offer her? More misery and death, worrying about us all of the time. . .she'll probably leave after this. . .she knows we care, but will that be enough to make her stay? I didn't know for sure how I felt about her before, what with me making her miserable over the whole Angel thing, and I'm even more uncertain now. I know I love her, but is that all, or am I just lying to myself? Way to be self-aware, Xander. Maybe Cordy was right after-HELLO, target acquired. *   
  
I saw those slimy looking Chaos demons begin appearing in the parking lot, just where Fiona's spells indicated they would. They moved to the side, allowing new ones to come in. I sighted in on one at random and waited for the fifth demon to appear. When it did, I pulled the trigger and was satisfied to see the demon's head explode in a pink mist from the explosive .50 caliber round. As it fell, I was sighting in on the next target. I was at the highest point in the school; specifically, the roof of the bell tower, and they would have to move quite a distance to get out of line of sight, not to mention that the fact that I was not emitting any sound would delay their spotting me. I squeezed off four more rounds rather quickly and took out two more. As I frantically reloaded, I could see more demons coming in, and they quickly scattered. I began firing again, and by the time that the gun was empty again, three more demons were down.   
  
I was pleased with the results, but there were still five more Chaos demons left, and who knew how many more would arrive. I was reloading again when I saw a new figure appear. It was not a Chaos Demon. . .it looked human. . .no, wait, the sniper scope showed features that were obviously demonic. . .it had to be Brand AKA the fake Master. I ignored him and finished reloading, after which I squeezed off five quick rounds, taking out another Chaos demon, after which I turned the scope back to where Brand was and OH God, he was looking right at me. His hands were moving in a complex pattern, and I had only time to think an apologetic goodbye to all of my friends before he unleashed a hellish bolt of fire my way that I couldn't dodge for the life of me. . .  
  
. . .only to feel myself yanked backward by the seat of my pants into a fully lighted area. After a moment, I recovered enough to pull off the low-light goggles and look up at the concerned face of Buffy. "You okay, soldier boy?" she joked, pulling me to my feet without effort.  
  
I nodded and replied, "A-OK, ma'am. All part of the service." I hoped that I would not faint, and a moment's hesitation confirmed my hopes. I looked over at Oz and called out, "Need some backup, buddy?"  
  
Oz seemed to think a moment, then replied, "I could stand some company here. Welcome back." I walked over to him and called out, "Four nasty looking Chaos demons coming our way, along with someone who looks an awful lot like the Master's description." As I grabbed some weapons and prepared to fight to the death, if need be, a single thought pierced the confusion:  
  
* Zeppo my ass. *  
  
BUFFY  
  
I watched the shadowy figure of Xander from one eye while concentrating on the view through his eyes in my other, closed eye. It was tricky, but Bleys had told me how to do it, and it was crucial that I do so. Xander knew that I could see him, thanks to the Trump of Xander rendered by Bleys while we prepared, but what he didn't know is that I could hear his surface thoughts through the connection. I was genuinely moved by what he was thinking. * I haven't been thinking about what impact this will have on my friends. . .not to mention Mom. She'll be glad that I don't have to be the Slayer anymore, but what will I do if I'm not Slaying. . .and what will it mean to the people I care about? *  
  
My musing was interrupted by the appearance of targets in Xander's line of sight, and I watched intently as he picked off several of them with the sniper rifle. I could feel that he was nervous, but he kept his composure and kept reloading and shooting. . .then it happened. The figure who stepped through was unmistakably the Master. . .meaning it was Brand. Xander kept shooting, but Brand began moving his arms around with mystic gestures, and I knew it was time to get Xander out. I reached through the Trump connection, grabbed Xander's belt, and pulled him right into the library through the link at an angle that would have looked to any observer as if he passed right through the roof. . .which in a sense, he did.  
  
He recovered quickly, and my joking comment to him snapped him out of it and had him replying in kind. He moved over to help Oz, reporting as he did so that there were four of those nasty Chaos demons left, not to mention what looked like the Master, headed our way. We had blocked off all of the alternate routes: they would have to come in the front doors or not at all. Xander had suggested that he find a spot back in the stacks to pick off more targets, but Fiona had vetoed the idea: Brand would be prepared for such tactics now that he had seen them used once, and the danger of friendly fire casualties was far too great. Fiona was deep in concentration: at least we wouldn't have to worry about Brand teleporting or using those creepy sounding Logrus tentacles on one of us. Fiona had cast protection spells in the room, so nasty surprises like that flame bolt wouldn't be a problem. Still, Brand was supposed to be a formidable foe, and he would also be wielding the powers of my dead enemy. I had to admit. . .I was more than a bit scared. . .but I wasn't totally screwed up like I was the last time I thought he was coming back. I knew that I was more powerful than I had ever been, and that this man was the greatest enemy of my newfound family. I was damned if I was going to fail now.  
  
The doors abruptly swung open, but no one was there, though we heard footsteps. After a moment, four Chaos demons, nastier looking then any we had seen so far, strode into the room. Oz and Xander leveled their crossbows, and the four of us on frontline combat duty tensed, but they merely paired off in an honor guard position alongside the doorway as. . .he walked in. The Master. Confident and arrogant as always, but even in the unholy red eyes I could see a sense of something that had not been there before. . .an aura of timeless power that the Master could only have dreamed of. If Fiona's explanation hadn't been enough, I knew now that this being was something far beyond the Master. I glared at him with all of the anger I could muster and commented sarcastically:  
  
"Wasn't dying in this room once enough for you?"  
  
  
BRAND  
  
I emerged in the open parking lot and immediately realized that there was a problem. Several of my minions lay dead, brains and blood splattered everywhere, and as I scanned the dark school for the source, another demon took several hits and went down, dying from head and chest hits. I spotted the muzzle flashes of a high-powered rifle and wondered briefly at the lack of sound. * Ah, dear sister. I recognize your handiwork. * I quickly wove a spell and hurled a bolt of fire at the sniper. The flame splattered across the spot, but when the flame died out there was no body: someone had pulled him away, presumably by Trump. I surveyed my forces and saw only four demons had survived. * Perhaps I should have waited. . .no, the signs indicate that someone is trying to sever the connection between the Logrus and the Hellmouth, and time is short. . . and I will be prepared for further use of firearms. * I took a moment to weave a boomerang spell around the five of us: bullets would now reverse on the gunman who fired them at us. I waved at the demons and we marched into the school. After traversing some mundane corridors, we approached the room that contained the nexus of the Hellmouth; apparently, it was the school library. I could feel a damping force fall upon me, and experimentation proved that my teleportation and Logrus abilities were unusable. No matter, that would tie Fiona up, and Bleys would be needed to help weave the spell to sever the connection, and I had entangled the others in their own problems, meaning that I would only have to deal with the pathetic inhabitants of this shadow: what possible obstacle could they pose to my plans?  
  
With a gesture I caused the doors to open: my demons moved into position to give me an honor guard. I strode into the room as if I owned this place; which, in a sense, I did. I took a moment to scan the room. Bleys was sitting next to a mystic circle along with a lovely young girl who reminded me of Fiona: they were chanting softly, and I could see the energy matrix that would sever the link growing in strength. . .how unfortunate for them that it would never be finished. Fiona was glaring at me: I could feel the awesome force of her will damping my greatest powers * but that won't be enough this time, dear sister. * Two teenaged boys stood guard over the circle, leveling crossbows at my demonic honor guard. Two men. . .no, that one was a vampire, wasn't he?. . .stood with drawn swords. I sensed fear in both of them, both from facing this foe again and from the additional problem that Bleys and Fiona had undoubtedly informed them of. A dark-haired beauty holding a wicked broadsword stared contemptuously at me: she reminded me of Deirdre. . .alas. Her aura whispered deception and treachery. . .perhaps I could recruit her. . .the need to survive does tend to remove little compunctions about switching sides, didn't it? And in the middle. . .who was this? She was so delicate, much like the porcelain figurines that Eric loved to collect before his unfortunate demise. Yet I could feel the power radiate from her as if she were a sword blade thrust into a furnace: this one was not to be underestimated. Still, she was of Shadow, and as such was not to be taken seriously. I was pondering this when the girl occupying my thoughts curled her lip and snidely commented, "Wasn't dying in this room once enough for you?"  
  
For a moment, I was puzzled, and my mind involuntarily wandered to the moment when Caine's arrows pierced my heart and throat, and I tumbled helplessly into the Abyss of Chaos. . .then I remembered the history of the creature whose form I had taken. This had to be Buffy. . .the Slayer who had ended his existence. No wonder she looked so smug, but I was something beyond her experience. For the moment, I ignored her and called out, "Brother, Sister! How lovely to run into family so soon after my emergence. . .such a shame that I will have to kill you, along with your new friends."  
  
Fiona smiled, and replied, "I see you haven't changed a bit, Brand. Your reach will always exceed your grasp. . .for you underestimate your opponents. . .just as you did with Corwin."  
  
For a moment, the nature of the creature whose form I had assumed asserted itself as my burst of anger caused me to snarl involuntarily. After a moment, I laughed and replied, "I see no brooding Prince of Amber to face me this time, dear sister. You and brother Bleys are quite preoccupied. . .and one man, a vampire, and a few children are not much of an obstacle, I fear." I turned my head and nodded, and the demons moved forward. The three sword-wielding figures interposed themselves between the demons and the mystic circle, while the crossbow wielding youths kept their crossbows leveled, apparently waiting for one to break through. As for the young woman who had spoken. . .she avoided the oncoming demons with an impressive acrobatic move and landed three feet in front of me. I laughed and commented, "Impressive, Buffy. But I am not the Master. I am something far beyond your mundane experience. I will destroy this shadow and drink from its corpse. . .and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it."  
  
Buffy grimaced, then smiled coldly as she replied, "I would think that someone with your rep could come up with a better line than that. . .Uncle."  
  
Taken utterly aback, I actually dropped my guard for a moment, and found myself sprawled on my back from a well-delivered right cross. The force behind that blow convinced me that she was not lying. . .this might take some effort after all. I got to my feet and smiled. "So, you're my niece, eh?" I kicked her in the jaw, sending her sprawling. I laughed and concluded, "Well, welcome to the family!" The battle raged on in the rest of the room, but for now, I only had eyes for my newfound relative. . .and the thoughts of what I would do to her when she was helpless.  
  
  
  
As always, comments are welcomed and desired.  
  
  



	8. Part VIII

Part VIII  
  
  
FIONA  
  
The ability to withstand massive exertion is the birthright of the royal family of Amber, and I possess the quality in substantial measure (though none of us has come close to matching Brother Corwin in this regard). However, I was beginning to feel the stress of the situation. Behind me, Bleys and Willow continued to chant softly, and the energy matrix was growing brighter and brighter moment to moment; unfortunately, it would be several minutes more before it reached threshold energy and severed the link between the Hellmouth and the Logrus. Xander and Oz were standing by with raised crossbows, guarding us and waiting for opportunity fire against any of the demons being held off by the three frontline fighters. All three were fighting defensively, trying to buy us the time we needed. Angel was using his superior strength to wield two broadswords and was holding off two of the Chaos demons, though he was wounded in several places. Xander had managed to put a crossbow bolt in the shoulder of one of the demons, after which Angel had managed to avoid being wounded. Giles was wielding Bleys' Pattern sword Evening Star, and using it skillfully: the fight was a standoff for the moment, with both sides having taken scratches. Faith was having the roughest time of it: she was clearly unused to fighting defensively, and the demon had reach on her. Still, the demon she was fighting had been wounded worse than the others, also, and the question seemed to be who would drop first.  
  
The fight between Buffy and Brand had been brutal. I could see multiple bruises on Buffy's face and arms, and though his vampiric body didn't react the same way to damage as a human's, Brand was clearly feeling the pain. Fortunately for Buffy, Brand was not as physically powerful as most of his brothers, though he was capable in combat, having been trained by Benedict. I was vigilant, hoping he would give up trying to use his special powers so that I could aid Buffy more directly, but he recognized the danger and kept trying to teleport or use Logrus at odd moments, demanding my attention. I could see the frustration on his face: we were holding our own, and time was running out.  
  
The glow behind me grew brighter and brighter. . .it would only be seconds now. I saw Brand's vampiric visage assume a determined look, then he knocked Buffy's arms aside and grabbed her head, staring into her eyes. I saw her grab his arms to prevent his breaking her neck, but I knew that he had another purpose. Angel, seeing the action and thinking Buffy was about to be killed, shouted, "NO!!" and was distracted enough that one of his opponents was able to get around him and headed straight for the circle. Xander and Oz discharged their crossbows, but the bolts struck non-vital areas and the demon swept them aside, bearing down on me. . .  
  
. . .as I felt Brand's attention being totally brought to bear on Buffy, allowing me to concentrate on the problem at hand. I grabbed the arm that the demon was raising to sweep me aside and locked eyes with it. I felt it recoil in horror as it realized the problem it now had, but my will paralyzed it as I spoke three Words of Power. The creature wilted and dropped to the ground, its mind gone. At that moment, there was a massive burst of light from behind me and all three conscious demons wailed in pain and dropped their swords. As if choreographed, Angel, Giles, and Faith raised their blades simultaneously and decapitated their foes, sending their bodies crumpling to the ground.  
  
Everyone paused for a moment in shock, then everyone turned to where Buffy and Brand were locked together, staring blankly into each other's eyes. Angel recovered first and was moving quickly towards them with a stake when I found my voice again: "Angel, no!"  
  
Angel, still wearing his vampiric face, snarled, "Why not? He's going to kill her!" Bleys, sizing up the situation, hastened to explain, "He has her in a mind lock. If you kill him now, the shock could be fatal to Buffy." After a moment, Angel nodded, and his features returned to human appearance. Giles walked over to hand Bleys his blade, then turned to me and asked, "What can we do, Fiona?"  
  
Frowning, I replied, "Brand knows he is defeated, and he is trying to salvage the situation. The form he has taken is temporary and probably cannot function outside this shadow; on the other hand, Buffy is an Amberite, and a relatively inexperienced one. He hopes to take over her mind and use her to escape, knowing that we cannot hurt him without hurting Buffy. If he succeeds, we may lose her forever."  
  
There was an appalled silence, then Xander broke the silence by asking, "Can we help her?" I frowned and replied, "I can't break the lock directly, but we may be able to help her through encouragement." I beckoned everyone over and explained, "We need to form a circle around them. . ."  
  
BUFFY  
  
Brand grabbed me, and all I could think of was that he was going to break my neck. I grabbed frantically at his hands, and that's when he locked eyes with me. The eyes were the Master's, but I could see the even deeper menace there. I tried to break away, but I felt myself being sucked in. . .  
  
Abruptly I was standing in the library, which was empty except for me. . .and a slim man of modest height, blue eyes, and red hair, who was watching me with an amused expression on his face. From the picture on his Trump, I knew him to be Brand. I laughed and called out, "What's the matter, didn't like playing the big, bad Master any more?"  
  
Brand smiled, and the look of it was more evil than anything I had seen from the Master. "We're in your mind, Buffy. You and your friends have won your little victory and saved your shadow from destruction. . .but now you are in my realm, and you have no hope here. I will take control of your mind from within and use your body to escape. I might even stay permanently. . .you have a strong body, and with my superior intellect and other charms, that is a good match."  
  
Fighting the chill that went racing up and down my spine, I looked around, and a thought occurred to me. "Why are we still in the library, if this is my mind?"  
  
For a moment, a look of genuine puzzlement crossed Brand's face, then he was in command again. "Why, Buffy, this place is the nexus of all of the evil that has plagued your shadow. . .it may be sealed out there, but here it represents the place of greatest peril to you. . .the place you will die. Unless, of course, you cooperate. We could be partners rather than adversaries. You have a great deal of talent compared to the other bastard puppies our family has spawned. I could make it worth your while. . ."  
  
The voice was soothing, and for a moment I was tempted. I was so damned sick of fighting. . .so damned sick of being beaten down over and over again. Brand watched my inner struggle with a cruel smile on his face, and I was in a state of utter dismay when I began to hear the whispers: "Buffy. . .don't listen. . .Buffy, fight him. . .Buffy, we need you. . ."  
  
The voices came from behind me, and I turned to see ghostly shapes forming in the room. I saw an image of Fiona kneeling next to two bodies locked together, apparently Brand and myself. Her hand was on my forehead, and Bleys was holding her other hand. The others were linked in a circle around us, and Bleys grasped one of Willow's hands to link them with the rest of us. I could hear them murmuring further encouragement to me, but there was no response when I shouted back. Brand snickered, and I whirled back to him. "They can't hear you, Buffy," he explained, walking up to me, contempt on his face. "They are mere phantoms who cannot fully penetrate the barriers I have set up. In fact, I can block them completely. . .and I will." He waved a hand theatrically, and the images vanished.   
  
I felt a pang of loss and desperately wished for the images to return. . .and, just like that, they did. Brand looked startled and waved his hand again: the images faded but did not disappear. I locked eyes with him and concentrated on strengthening the images. They grew in brightness and definition, and the voices grew more clear. I heard Willow clearly say, "Buffy, can you hear us?" I turned and actually met her gaze: her reaction made it obvious she could see me. "Loud and clear, Willow. Save me a seat." I saw her blink at the flippant reaction, then I turned back to Brand who suddenly looked less confident. I smiled at him, with an expression that had not been on my face since the night the Anointed One kidnapped my friends to try to bring back the Master, and I calmly told Xander and Angel I was going to kill every vampire in the room as a distraction.  
  
Brand threw a straight right at me, but I blocked it effortlessly and struck him hard in the jaw: he went staggering back. "I just figured something out," I commented as we traded blows, with my punches and kicks seeming unhurried while his had the obvious look of wildness. "We're not in the library because it is your conception of a good place to kill me. We're here because. . .this place is my home, more so even than the room I sleep in at night. I spend most of my free time here with friends, planning things that have made a difference to a lot of people." I pointed to the spot under the skylight. "The Master died there two years ago, and I died under this very spot that night. . .or, should I say, the Slayer died. I lived, and that created a little problem for you, didn't it? You probably just realized it yourself. . .you've been feeding power into the Hellmouth for years now, and you've been wondering why it has taken so damned long to reach the critical point: you must have been desperately trying to emerge before Fiona or someone else noticed what you were doing. What you didn't know was that a young Amberite had come into a measure of her power right on top of the Hellmouth, and that the result would be a drain on the energy you were attempting to build up. . .into me. Oh, there would be side effects: increased paranormal activity in the area, unexplainable events. . .but in Sunnydale, none would be the wiser. I should have been a pushover in our fight. . .but I wasn't: I was too strong, and you were forced to come back before you were ready. So you brought me here, hoping to take through intimidation and force of will what you couldn't get out there. There's just one problem, Brand." I stepped up the pace of my blows, and Brand was reduced to all out defense, his expression changing to one of desperation. I laughed out loud and knocked him down with a sweep kick, then reached behind me and broke a chair leg off: the end was quite jagged enough to make a lethal weapon. "I've had to face a demon with the face of the man I loved in a fight to the death, then sent that man to hell. I've been dead and come back for more. After all I've been through, Brand, the sad fact is that you're just another demon for me to kill. This is my place, and you don't belong here." With that, I took the chair leg with both hands and brought it down, hard. Just before it would have struck home, Brand's body glowed as brightly as the sun, blinding me for a moment.   
  
When my vision returned, I realized that I was lying on the floor with a serious headache, and Fiona was standing over me, smiling. I blinked and asked, "Uh. . .what happened? I was about to stake Brand and he disappeared. . ." Fiona pointed behind me, and I looked and saw a small pile of ashes, still smoldering. I turned back to Fiona, who explained, "The Master's body flared and turned to ash just before you came out of it. . .I believe that Brand forcefully disengaged the link and used most of his remaining mental energy to project himself back into the Abyss of Chaos. Unless I'm greatly mistaken, it will be a while before he can try something like this again. . .if ever."  
  
I shook my head and tried to gather my thoughts: that had been a close one. I wondered at my last words to Brand, and I turned to Fiona. She smiled and explained, "Brand had you in a very deep mind lock, Buffy. In that state, both parties have conscious access to that which we call intuition. You made a number of connections between disparate facts that would have been very difficult to put together in a normal waking state. . .but you did it all on your own. Congratulations."  
  
Obeying an impulse, I hugged her, and though I had the feeling that she wasn't ordinarily the hugging type, I felt her return the embrace warmly. At that, the others came up, offering congratulations, hugs, and kisses. Faith walked up and clasped my shoulder, saying, "Way to go, B. Listen, I'm gonna bail. See you later." I hardly heard her words, being startled at the effect that the momentary contact between us had, but I managed to nod as she left. Bleys held back, apparently wanting me to enjoy the moment, but after a minute or two everyone had moved back, noticing me watching Bleys. After a few more seconds, I hesitantly walked over to Bleys and looked up at him. He said nothing, but I could see the twinkle in those blue eyes. Annoyed, I put my hands on my hips and demanded, "Well?"  
  
Bleys studied his fingernails for a moment, then looked down at me and replied, "Let's see. . .you've saved your shadow and all of your friends from utter destruction, gained great power and a new family, and beaten one of the most dangerous beings in the universe at his own game. Not bad. . .for a beginner." He actually managed to keep a straight face for five full seconds as I gave him the A version of my death stare, then smiled broadly and clasped forearms with me, then leaned over and kissed my forehead. He straightened and commented, "Well done indeed, Buffy. . .but we will need to train you more. From what I've seen, by the time Benedict and I finish with you, Brand won't last five minutes in the rematch. . .if there is one."  
  
I groaned at the thought. "Gee, Bleys, that sounds. . .great." I remembered something that I needed to take care of and turned to Xander. "Hey, I need to run an errand. Order us some pizza. . .I'm starving and I bet the rest of our little defense squad is too. I'll be back in about an hour." Xander nodded and I jogged out the door, leaving Giles clucking at the mess in his library as I departed.  
  
  
FAITH  
  
  
I finished telling the Boss what had happened, and he was less than thrilled. "So your little playmate Buffy has gained archetypal power from a noble extra-dimensional bloodline, huh? That's not the kind of news I like to get. . .but at least we're not about to be shredded by an exploding Hellmouth. That's the key to life, Faith: look on the bright side of things." He began shuffling some paperwork as I toyed with the letter opener in my hand, restless and worried about what the deal would be now that Buffy had become seriously dangerous. The Boss saw the expression on my face and chuckled, "Faith, you worry too much. We'll deal with this: heck, I've had bigger setbacks than thi-OUCH!"  
  
He pulled a finger back from where it had run along the papers he was holding, and I could see blood dripping from a nasty paper cut. . .that wasn't healing. Startled, I pointed and commented, "Uh, boss, you're bleeding." He noticed, and turned pale as he began babbling, "This can't be. . .the ceremony should have made me invulnerable for one hundred days. . .wait, oh no, it can't be." He looked up at me and asked, "Faith, did you say that the Amberite sorceress told you all that the Hellmouth would be closed by the ceremony?"  
  
I frowned and thought a moment. "Yeah, she said that. . .no, wait, Boss, she said that the ceremony would seal the Hellmouth, not close it. Does that make a difference?"  
  
I saw his face turn angry for a moment, then soften as his normal personality reasserted itself. He took a deep breath and replied, "Yes, Faith, it does. The magical environment that was sustaining my invulnerability. . .and that was going to make my Ascension possible. . .has been radically changed. It's all gone. . .my plans are ruined. Darn, that's disappointing. Oh well, guess I'll have to tough it out another fifty years or so." He went back to writing notes on the papers in front of him, not watching me.  
  
I frowned again and asked, "So you aren't invulnerable any more, and you aren't going to become an all-powerful demon on Graduation Day?" He chuckled and replied, "Seems not, Faith. Oh well, plans change, and there will always be a place for you in my organization. Why do you a-ukk!"  
  
His head turned to where the letter opener had pierced his heart, then he looked at my cold expression as I replied, "I just wanted to know where we stood, Boss." His face twitched, and he said something that sounded kind of like, "well gosh," before he staggered out of his chair and dropped dead to the floor. As I watched, his body-clothing and all-turned into a puddle of orange goop. I made a face and turned-to see Buffy standing in the open doorway, calmly watching the scene. I felt like I had just been gut-punched, and I said nothing as she walked over and examined the mess that had been the Mayor of Sunnydale. She smiled coldly and commented, "Well, there won't be a body to worry about this time, but the janitor is going to be seriously pissed off."  
  
I nervously looked around for an escape route; naturally, there was nothing available, so I tried one of the golden oldies: "Uh, I can explain, Buffy." She laughed at that, and began circling me like a vulture around a corpse as she commented, "Really, Faith? You can explain how it was that you decided to switch sides and work for the head bad guy in Sunnydale. . .how you were willing to let Willow get killed to protect your boss' dirty little secrets. . .how you've been lying to all of us for weeks now. . .you can explain, huh? This ought to be good."   
  
I was too taken aback to manage any reply, and she continued, "Thing about Amberites, Faith, is that we can read the minds of people who touch us. I might not have noticed, but you were so frantic to get back to the Mayor and figure out how to sell him down the river now that you knew the score with me that you might has well have shouted the whole thing in my ear. The question is, now, what am I going to do with you?"  
  
I was more afraid at that moment than I had been since Kakistos had us cornered when I first came to Sunnydale: whatever the last few days had done to Buffy, it had certainly made her less picky about killing. . .if I didn't tell her what she wanted to hear, I was dead meat. I stayed quiet as she continued, "On the one hand, you just did us all a big favor by taking out the Mayor. . .nice to know that we won't have to worry about him any more. On the other hand, you're a treacherous little bitch who sold us down the river so that you could have a nicer place to sleep and be the big shot in this town. . .a lot of people would probably sleep better if I dumped you where you dumped Mr. Finch last month." Moving more quickly than I had ever seen her do before, she reached out and grabbed me by the throat. I grabbed her arm to try to loosen the grip, but she was too strong. I could feel myself losing consciousness, then suddenly she released her grip and shoved me to the floor. I managed to keep a relatively composed look on my face, but I knew that she could see the fear in my eyes. I stood up and looked at her for a long moment before asking quietly, "All right, what do you want? If you want me gone, I'm gone. I can be on a freighter before morning. . ."  
  
Buffy laughed, and the sound of it was harsh in the quiet office. "That's always the solution for you, isn't it? Run off and leave everyone else to clean up your messes. It's not going to be that easy, Faith. If you want to leave this office alive, you're going to have to commit to being useful." She pointed to the Mayor's visitor's chair and indicated for me to sit. I did, and she sat behind the Mayor's desk. She looked at me for a long moment, then explained bluntly, "I want you to be the Slayer, Faith."  
  
I was startled, and she could see it on my face as she elaborated, "I'm going to be away a lot now, Faith. This whole Amber thing is going to mean a lot of specialized education and training that I can't get here, and even though Fiona says that with the Hellmouth sealed that vampire and demon activity will be down worldwide, this place still needs a Slayer. . .and you're the only one left now. I'll be back a lot, and I'll be training you with some of the tricks I'll be learning in Amber, but you'll be the Slayer. . .what you've wanted all along, if I remember correctly." Buffy saw the dawning hope on my face and snapped, "But if I can't trust you, Faith, I'm just going to have to dump you in the river and take my chances with the next Slayer." I recoiled, and Buffy's face softened for the first time and continued softly, "Look, Faith. Personality issues aside, you're good at what you do. Get rid of some of those self-destructive impulses of yours, and you might live a long life even being the Slayer. But I'm trusting you with the safety of my friends, and if you don't come through. . .well, if you thought I was rough on Angel, just cross me on this and see the hell I leave you in." Buffy looked at me for a long moment, and added one more thing: "I'll tell Angel what the score is, but if you agree, none of the others will ever hear what happened with you and the Mayor. You get to be the Slayer, get all of the attention, the whole ball of wax. How about it?"  
  
It wasn't a hard choice, really. Death is highly overrated as a career move, and the situation she was going to set up for me wasn't that bad. Besides, it would still be possible to sneak in a little fun now and then. . . Buffy extended her hand, and from the expression on her face, I knew that she knew that I wouldn't cross her. . .at least for now.  
  
  
  
As always, comments are welcomed and desired.  
  
  



	9. Part IX

Part IX  
  
BLEYS  
  
She walked out of City Hall with her head held high and a look of confidence on her face, and it was almost a shame to see her face fall a little when she spotted me standing next to a lamppost across the street. She walked over and stared up at me for a long moment before asking, "All right, how did you know where I would be?"  
  
I grinned, then began walking back to the school, indicating that she should follow, while I explained, "Faith was in the link with the rest of us, trying to reach you. I was able to pick out her surface thoughts, about the Mayor and how she was working for him. I assumed that you had picked up on the same thing, and that you would deal with the problem. So what happened?"  
  
Buffy sighed, then replied, "As it turned out, I didn't have to do much of anything." She recounted what had occurred in the Mayor's office, including her conversation with Faith, and by the time she had finished I was frowning. "You handled yourself well," I commented, "but can you really trust her, Buffy? You're going to put a lot of responsibility on someone with a shaky track record."  
  
She laughed and replied, "After the things I said in there, Giles and some of the others might ask that question about me, not Faith. . .I read her mind again when we shook hands at the end. She really does want to be the Slayer, with all of the attention that gets her. With me gone most of the time, she gets what she wants, and if she does the job, I get what I want. . .a pretty good arrangement. The Mayor got her a new place to stay, and the lease is paid up for two years. I'll have Angel cover it as something he supposedly owns, and no one will be the wiser. The thing is, Faith needs someone capable and experienced to help her, and Wesley ain't going to be the one who can pull that off." She turned to me and grimly continued, "Let's get back to the library. We've got a road trip to plan."  
  
COLIN VANDERBILT, RECORDING SECRETARY, COUNCIL OF WATCHERS  
  
I settled into my seat and watched as the other members of the Nine entered the room and found their own seats. The Board of Directors rarely met as a group, and even more rarely did they meet on such short notice: several of the members had obviously been forced to drop everything and report without attending to their complete grooming regimen. Still, they took their duties seriously, and they had all arrived and were waiting impatiently when the clock tolled the hour and indicated the beginning time for the meeting. I pressed the button that activated the state of the art video recording equipment that had been installed here recently after a close vote had overridden the concerns of the traditionalists. David Masters, the President of the Board for the past decade, banged his gavel and announced, "This emergency session of the Board of Directors of the Council of Watchers is hereby called to order. We are here due to the request of Mr. Morris, who has apparently received an urgent message from the Field Watcher. Walter, would you care to elaborate?"  
  
Walter Morris stood, looking ill at ease. He cleared his throat and began, "Three hours ago, I received a phone call from Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, who took over the duties of Field Watcher after the termination of Mr. Rupert Giles." He frowned at this point: he had been a vocal dissenter when the decision had been made to terminate Giles, and again when Wyndham-Pryce had been appointed to replace him. He continued, "Wyndham-Pryce indicated that there was a matter of great importance that he needed to address the Board about, and that we should schedule an emergency session for this time."  
  
The cold voice of Quentin Travers broke the brief silence. "Hardly informative. Where was Wesley calling from, the airport?" Morris shook his head and replied, "Actually, no, Travers. He was calling from Sunnydale: the caller ID device on my phone confirmed it."  
  
Travers snorted and commented, "That's ridiculous! Even the Concorde wouldn't get him here in three hours from there. . .and how did he get your number anyway? The only contact number he has would direct his call to me-"  
  
"Mr. Giles was kind enough to give me Director Morris's number, Director Travers."  
  
We all looked over to the open doorway. Wyndham-Pryce was standing there, with a determined look on his face that looked oddly different from the casual arrogance that he exuded when he left for his new position the previous month. Standing next to him was an extraordinary figure: a man of relatively ordinary height and weight and athletic build, wearing the clothing of a Renaissance prince done in red and orange, which suited his flaming red hair and beard and laughing blue eyes. A broadsword rested in a scabbard at his side: he exuded charisma-and danger.   
  
Masters managed to keep his composure sufficiently to direct his attention to Wyndham-Pryce and quietly ask, "Would you care to explain yourself, Wesley?" The younger man nodded and replied, "Firstly, my apologies for calling you together on such short notice. . .and for our slight tardiness. We had to find a place to tie up the horse, you see." There was murmuring at the apparent non sequitur, and Masters banged the gavel again to restore order. Wyndham-Pryce waited for silence, then continued, "There was a dangerous event averted tonight that would have destroyed this world if it had occurred as intended. This gentleman assisted in preventing the disaster, and his testimony, along with that of others, is crucial to my presentation."  
  
Travers muttered, "Oh, the world is about to be destroyed by Sunnydale again. . .how often will we hear that old chestnut?" Masters turned to him and glared, and Travers shut up, though his expression was unapologetic. Masters then turned back to Wyndham-Pryce and commented, "Well, Wesley, we are here, and we should hear your entire presentation." He glanced out into the hallway and saw no one, then asked, "Wesley, where are these other witnesses you spoke of ?"  
  
Wyndham-Pryce looked hesitant for the first time, then asked, "Are you sure you want to see them now, Mr. President?" Masters frowned and replied, "Of course, Wesley. Bring them in. . .we don't have all day, now, do we?"  
  
Wyndham-Pryce turned to the red-headed man and nodded, and the stranger extended his hand. I may live to be a hundred, but I will never forget what I saw next. A hand appeared in the stranger's, then an arm attached to the hand, then the entire figure of Buffy Summers, the oldest of the two living Slayers, stepped into the room. Her other hand trailed behind her, and next Faith, the younger Slayer who was on probation after inadvertently killing a man in Sunnydale, appeared. She was followed by Rupert Giles, then by three teenagers who I recognized from prior reports and photos as being Alexander Harris, Willow Rosenburg, and that young fellow who had become a werewolf. . .what was his name. . .ah yes, they called him "Oz." The murmuring in the room was quite loud, and Masters waited a long moment before he gaveled the room into silence again. He took a deep breath and commented, "That was rather extraordinary, Wesley. Would you care to explain?"  
  
Wyndham-Pryce turned to Buffy Summers, who stepped forward and commented, "Actually, I'm going to tell this story. I thought it might be nice to have a long talk with the people who have been so busy screwing up my life for the last three years."  
  
I heard Travers snort and mutter, "Insolent child." She heard him, and gave him a stare that was truly terrifying to behold. Travers is made of stern stuff, but after a moment he looked away, and the Slayer commented, "Now, if I have everyone's attention. . .", then she began the most extraordinary story. I was grateful for the recording equipment, as no written account could hope to capture all of the nuances she put into the tale. For forty minutes, there was no sound in the room other than her voice and the quiet breathing of the others in the room. When she finished, no one spoke for ten full seconds, and I could see from the faces of my fellow Board members that she had convinced them-even Travers-of the truth of her words: I certainly believed her.   
  
Masters cleared his throat, then addressed Buffy: "Miss Summers, thank you for your report. The conclusion that Bleys and Mr. Giles have come to regarding your status is consistent with what we know about how Slayers are called, and explains the unprecedented situation of two active Slayers. Given that, I hereby rule that the Council no longer has any jurisdiction over you and your future actions, and that you are free to live your life as you see fit from this moment onward. We give you our thanks for a job well done, Buffy. Now, was there anything else you wanted to say?"  
  
Buffy's face grew angry for a moment, then settled into a disconcerting coldness. She raked the line of Directors sitting in front of her with a withering glare that had us all squirming in our seats. She locked eyes with Masters and calmly replied, "A lot of things, actually. Do you really think I'm going to wander off and let you continue screwing up the lives of Faith and whoever ends up following her the way you have been with me and the people I care about? It's not happening, people. Ever since Kendra showed up in Sunnydale and almost ran me through because one of you couldn't be bothered to pick up a phone and let us know that there was a second Slayer out there, you Council types have been worse than useless. When you finally show up in Sunnydale, you nearly get me and my mother killed, fire Giles and replace him with someone you had to know wasn't up for the job." Wyndham-Pryce flushed at this last comment, but he remained silent. Buffy continued, "Not to mention the goon squad you sent to Sunnydale to grab Faith. . .who just disposed of a big-time problem for us all, by the way, in case you didn't catch that little detail in my report." She looked over the line of Directors again and concluded bluntly, "I've just gained one hell of a lot of power, and if you don't justify your existence to me rather quickly, your involvement with Slayers in this world is finished, as of now."  
  
There was silence for another long moment, then Travers laughed harshly. He stood up and glared at Buffy, then turned to the others, exhorting, "Don't you see! She's mad with power. . .she's always been too close to Mr. Giles, and it has corrupted her, just as I warned you! We can't let her interfere with the way we do things. . .the way things have always been done. We've kept the world safe for millennia. . .are we to be thwarted now by the whims of a spoiled child? You've read the reports from Sunnydale. . .you know I'm right."  
  
"Actually, they only know what you've told them, Travers." The voice belonged to Wyndham-Pryce, and it was-if possible-colder than Buffy's. "I read the recent reports from Sunnydale, which as usual are based on the Field Watcher's diaries, before assuming my duties there. Upon receiving the actual diaries from Mr. Giles, I first read the older entries, and noticed the general tone was different than the reports that I had read. Curious, I examined the diary entries that the reports were based on, and found that the events were portrayed in a radically different fashion than in the reports, with all of the changes in the reports being unfavorable to Mr. Giles. I think that you'll find that my reports have been similarly altered. I've made copies for your convenience." He handed them out, and the contents bore out his conclusions. All eyes turned to one seated figure as Wyndham-Pryce concluded, "I must assume that the reports were intentionally altered by the one Watcher with the responsibility for handling communications with the Field Watcher: Quentin Travers."  
  
Travers glared at Wyndham-Pryce, then looked contemptuously at the rest of the Board as they stared at him. He laughed again and snapped, "You fools! Summers and Giles were misfits from the beginning. They had no business having the destiny of the world in their hands. . .I was serving the greater good by trying to let nature take its course. . ."  
  
"You mean by insisting that we continue with the Cruciamentum, when Buffy did what no Slayer had done in thirty years and made it to her eighteenth birthday, Travers?" Giles' voice was a barely contained snarl as he lashed out at the man who had tormented him and the Slayer he had sworn to protect. "Never mind that she had done more by that time than five Slayers typically manage in their entire careers. . .you insisted that she had to prove herself yet again. You never intended for her to survive at all, did you?"  
  
Masters turned to Travers and shook his head. "I'm guessing that you were less than candid about what happened when Hobson and Blair were killed, also. Giles, clearly we should have investigated this more thoroughly before deciding, but Travers made quite incriminating accusations towards you, and we had no reason to doubt him."  
  
Giles nodded and replied, "Yes, Wesley filled me in not long ago. I supposedly let Kralick loose trying to protect Buffy and got Hobson and Blair killed. Plausible. . .if you don't bother to look at the evidence." Masters looked away in shame, as did four of the five other members who had voted to remove Giles. After a moment, Masters pressed a button in front of him, opening the intercom. "Security. Please come and take Mr. Travers into custody."  
  
Travers moved quickly, grabbing the elderly Masters and yanking him from his seat as he pulled out a semi-automatic pistol and placed it to his temple. "No one move!" he snapped, as he began moving around the table towards the doorway. Wyndham-Pryce moved furtively and for a moment, Travers changed his position, exposing his throat slightly. In that instant, Buffy moved in a blur and a stake appeared as if by magic in Travers' throat. Blood spurted and he dropped the gun and released Masters. He fell to the ground, looking pleadingly at the other occupants of the room. Buffy walked over to him, expressionless, and just stood there until the light went out of his eyes and the blood ceased flowing.  
  
Without another apparent thought for the corpse that had been Quentin Travers, Buffy Summers turned to Masters and helped him to his feet. Shocked, the Council President exclaimed, "Miss Summers. . .you killed him. . .a Slayer. . ."  
  
Buffy cut him off: "Mr. Masters, I'm not the Slayer any more. Now, let's have a little chat about what the deal is going to be from now on for whoever is." She waited for security to come and remove Travers' corpse and for the rest of us to settle down, then she began to speak again. As I listened, I watched the faces of the surviving board members and realized that, whatever her demands, we would end up meeting them. The Council of Watchers had supervised Slayers for millennia, but Buffy Summers was something out of our experience, and we would have to adapt. . .or become irrelevant to the new order of things.   
  
  
GILES  
  
  
"Rupert Giles. The unanimous finding of the Board of Directors of the Council of Watchers is that its previous finding as to your conduct in the matter of Buffy Summers' Cruciamentum was in error, due to mistaken reliance on the report of the late Quentin Travers. Consequently, the Board requests that you consent to resume your former position as Field Watcher to Faith Stevenson, the Slayer. Furthermore, the Board, in accordance with your verbal recommendation, appoints Wesley Wyndham-Pryce as your primary assistant. The remainder of your staff will be appointed at a later time." David Masters' voice was clear, calm, and apologetic as he continued in a more personal vein: "Rupert. . .we wronged you greatly, and we are completely satisfied with your performance as Field Watcher. . .both before and after the unfortunate events in January. We would be very grateful if you would consent to stay on."  
  
I was silent for a long moment. I could feel the eyes of Buffy and the others, watching to see how I would react. The Board had agreed to adopt all of Buffy's demands, though they chose to say so by referring to them as "recommendations". . .even when overmatched, the pride of the Council dies hard. No future Slayers would be subjected to the Cruciamentum, and the Council would provide a staff of five Watchers to assist the Field Watcher in the future. All five would report to separate members of the Board: never again would the actions of a single rogue Watcher court disaster. The Council would make sure that the Slayer had adequate living accommodations in the future: Faith's situation had been unpleasant, and it had ultimately contributed to her troubles. With increased assistance from the Council, elimination of the Cruciamentum and other outdated practices regarding the Slayer (including the discouragement of "normal" pursuits such as school and friends), and the probable reduction of supernatural activity due to the sealing of the Hellmouth and the termination of Brand's interference, being the Slayer seemed likely to be a far less lethal profession in the future. Faith would need a capable Watcher to assist her, and I wanted to be that Watcher: I owed Faith that much, and Buffy too-the new policies of the Council were her legacy. I looked at Masters and nodded. "I accept." Masters leaned forward and shook my hand, and the other members of the Board followed suit. Walter Morris, who had been my friend from childhood, pumped my hand with enthusiasm and led me aside, commenting, "You've done well, Rupert. Buffy is quite a remarkable girl. . .we'll be sorry to lose her services as the Slayer. . .though not that she's getting out of the job alive."  
  
I smiled and replied, "Buffy was remarkable before I ever met her, Walter. I'm just glad I was able to help her live to see this moment." I looked over to where Buffy was talking to Bleys: her face was lit up with a smile that I had all too rarely seen in the years we had worked together. The lifting of the burden from her shoulders was almost a physical presence in and of itself: the Buffy that remained was truly magnificent. I was just standing there watching her when Wesley walked up, looking uncomfortable. "Mr. Giles," he began, "I just wanted to say. . .I'm sorry for the role I played in this. . .unpleasantness. I misjudged you, and I hope to be able to make amends."  
  
I managed a rueful smile, and replied, "Wesley, I'd be lying if I didn't say that you've been a royal pain in the ass most of the time we've worked together." He winced at that, but quickly composed himself as I continued, "However, you were just as much a victim of Travers' machinations as the rest of us, and your assistance was invaluable today: when presented with the evidence, you did the right thing." I frowned at his own rueful expression, and honesty compelled me to make an admission: "Wesley, the fact is that I would have made a lousy Field Watcher at twenty five as well. I had to get past a lot of mistakes and get through a lot of maturing before I assumed my position. . .and even then, I had a lot of on the job training to do." I paused, and Wesley followed my gaze as I looked over at Buffy, who was laughing at something Xander was saying. I shook my head and grinned for a moment, then continued, "You are an excellent researcher, Wesley, and those talents will be useful in the months and years ahead. Give us a few years, and you'll be ready to give it another go. . .training with a Slayer will do wonders for those hand to hand combat skills."  
  
Wesley looked for a moment as if he wanted to reconsider the whole thing at the though of sparring with Faith on a regular basis, then nodded and walked over to speak with Masters. I laughed and decided to walk over to Buffy, who was surrounded by all of her friends. She was happy and healthy, and whatever her future as a member of the Royal Family of Amber held for her, I was confident she would thrive. . .now that the weight of this world had been removed from her shoulders.  
  
  
. . .to be continued  
  
  
As always, comments are welcomed and desired.  
  
  



	10. Part X

Part X  
  
THREE MONTHS LATER: GRADUATION DAY  
  
BLEYS  
  
". . .Buffy Anne Summers."  
  
Principal Snyder actually managed to sound like he didn't mind saying Buffy's name as she crossed the stage to accept her diploma, but my trained eye picked up the telltale signs of extreme irritation that he was feeling at having failed to derail my daughter's high school education. For a moment, my resentment threatened to become anger, but my emotions rapidly changed to pride as I watched her accept the diploma and shake Snyder's hand with an expression of utter graciousness on her face. I remembered what Oberon had told me while I was still too young to carry a sword: "To be courteous to those beneath you is to be noble. . .and who doesn't want to be noble?" I laughed out loud at the memory and attracted the attention of the two people sitting next to me: I looked over at Joyce and nodded to indicate that I was all right, but Hank Summers gave me a long and quizzical look before he turned back to the stage with a smile on his face.  
  
After the matter with the Council of Watchers had settled out, Buffy decided to come clean with the man she had believed to be her father until but two days before. With Joyce's reluctant help, she explained about her situation from both before and after my arrival, and the shock of it was evident on his face. I knew all too well what he was thinking: he had chosen a life that required him to be away far too often, and he had missed most of his daughter's growing up. Now, with their ties more tenuous than they had ever been, this news had come: he clearly thought that he was going to lose her forever, either from violence or because she might never want to see him again.  
  
Buffy had gone over and embraced him, and told him of how she remembered the years where he had been there for her, and that she knew that if he'd known of what she had been going through, he would have been more understanding and supportive. Looking at her with Hank at that moment, I felt a pang of jealousy: I had missed those years, and I would never get them back. . .but I knew that I was not cut out for that sort of duty: for better or worse, I am a wanderer, even more so than Hank Summers could ever imagine being. The fact that I had a daughter to nurture as she came into her true power as a member of the royal family of Amber was largely due to him, and to a remarkable woman that I met through the most astonishing set of coincidences. . .even more than I knew at that moment.  
  
I had decided to stay on in Buffy's shadow while she finished high school and helped supervise the installation of the new Council procedures regarding the Slayer. Fiona had departed after we returned from England, teasing me mercilessly about how parenthood had grown on me: Random had been pleased to hear that the new menace from Brand had been terminated thanks to the new member of the family. He authorized me to take all reasonable measures to facilitate Buffy's settling into her new situation. I had arranged for Benedict to take over her instruction in the martial arts once her high school education was complete: with her strength and agility augmented by the navigation of the Pattern, even Angel was no longer an adequate training companion. Private tutors would fill in some of the educational gaps that would have been dealt with if she had been raised in Amber; after that was finished, perhaps a college education such as Merlin received. . .best to do it in her own shadow, unless she wanted to go elsewhere.   
  
In late May, I had stopped by Joyce's house after dropping Buffy off at the school. I had decided to adopt a more inconspicuous look now that I was staying there for a while: a T-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. I gathered that Buffy and her friends derived great amusement from the reaction that I got from their female classmates while so attired: what can I say? A Prince of Amber must make an impression wherever he goes. In any event, Joyce had gone to fetch us some tea while I looked through her old family albums: as with the rest of my family, I have a fascination with genealogy, and I couldn't help but wonder at the background of the woman who I had encountered twenty years ago to such a wonderful end. I was looking at some yellowed black and white photos when I froze. Managing to keep my voice level with supreme effort, I called over to Joyce, "Could you come here for a moment, please?"  
  
Joyce came over, and I pointed to a picture of a man. "Who is that, Joyce?" The man in the picture was of slight build, with medium length hair and intense eyes. Joyce laughed ruefully and replied, "That, my dear, is the family scandal. My great-grandmother, Darlene Rogers, was a sweet young thing living in Chicago during World War I when she ran into this fellow. . .this is the only picture we have of him. Apparently, as often was the case during the war years, he loved her and left her, and Darlene found herself 'in trouble.' Fortunately, she found a very understanding young man who still wanted to marry her, and he became my great-grandfather in fact if not in the biological sense. You should hear my grandmother tell the story: she's eighty two years old and I wouldn't be surprised to see her last another fifty."  
  
I stared at her for a long moment, then could resist no longer: "Joyce, did this fellow who abandoned your great-grandmother leave his name, by any chance?" Joyce frowned, then replied, "Yes, Bleys: his name was Arthur Brandenburg. Why do you ask?"  
  
The name clinched it, of course. Faces can fool you, but Brand could never resist the temptation to use an alias that hinted at his true identity. I looked at Joyce as if seeing her for the first time. . .yes, I could see the faint family resemblance, and the pictures of Joyce's mother and maternal grandmother that I had seen bore the signs even more visibly. I carefully concealed my reaction, while thinking back to a conversation I had with Brand in happier times, while he was still rather young. "Bleys," he had commented, drawing on a pipe and staring moodily at the setting sun, "the universe is out to get me. . .and the only way I see out of it is to get it first." I had jovially tried to reassure him that he'd just had a run of bad luck, and his mood soon improved, but I wished that I'd paid more attention to that offhand comment. . .it might have saved us a lot of grief later. In any event, this new development put Brand's remark in a whole new light: because he had stopped in this shadow many years ago and become involved with a certain young woman, and because much later I visited the very same shadow and became involved with that woman's great-granddaughter, a plan of Brand's that would have almost certainly succeeded failed. As Corwin has been known to muse, are we of Amber the masters of fate or its most helpless pawns? I am as helpless to answer that question as anyone. . .but I had no intention of letting it ruin the immense good fortune that I had received in Buffy.   
  
The ceremony ended, and I carefully moved off to the side, giving Buffy a chance to spend a few moments alone with Joyce and Hank. I watched Buffy's friends as they mingled with their parents and classmates, and I wondered again at how things had worked out. I was still standing there watching when Buffy walked up and called out, "Hey, what's got you all contemplative, Bleys? That's not really your style."  
  
I nodded and replied, "Ordinarily, no, but the last few months. . .I'd be a fool if it didn't make me wonder about the forces that guide our lives. . .anyway, enough serious thoughts for now. Buffy, I think we should leave in a week. . .I can make arrangements for the transport of your possessions to Amber, and everything else seems to be in order. . .is there anything I'm overlooking? Do you still feel all right about this?"  
  
Buffy shrugged and replied, "I liked Amber. . .it seems so peaceful somehow after living on the Hellmouth for three years. Besides, thanks to our little surprise. . ." She paused and looked at her watch before amending, ". . . which we will be springing at my house at 9:30 tonight, so don't be late. . .my family and friends will both be but a moment away. . .sounds like a nice situation to me." She sighed and continued, "Besides, I don't have much of a choice at this point, do I? Living to a peaceful old age sounded nice when my lifespan looked rather limited, but sitting around kicking back when you have that immortality thing going for you sounds boring as hell. . .and Faith was right about one thing: we were built for fighting. . .it will be nice to be able to choose those fights from now on." She grinned at me, then turned away, saying, "I've got to visit a shut-in right now, so I'll see you at 9:30." She moved off, and I just watched her as she disappeared into the crowd.  
  
  
BUFFY  
  
I carefully entered the mansion and looked around. Angel was sitting near the fireplace and turned as I came in. He smiled wanly and called out, "Hi."  
  
"Hi yourself," I replied, moving over to him and giving him a hug. I felt him reach down and take the cap that still rested on my head, then watched as he examined it with an amused look before setting it gently down on a table and commenting, "Not the most practical piece of clothing in the world, but it looks good on you."  
  
I looked up into his eyes and retorted, "Liar." His eyes denied falsehood, and I nestled into his arms for a long, comfortable moment, before looking up at him and pulling away. I sat across from him and commented, "We do need to have that discussion we've been putting off, Angel."  
  
His face darkened, and he whispered, "I don't see what we have to discuss, Buffy. You're going to go off to Amber, and I'm going to stay here. The only difference between now and before Bleys came is that I don't have to leave Sunnydale. . .which is good, since even with things calmed down, Faith and Giles could use some help. . .there are still a lot of vampires here, and artifacts of dangerous power drawn here prior to the sealing of the Hellmouth that could endanger this world. I have things to do here. . .and I couldn't follow you even if the problem of the curse wasn't there."  
  
"I know," I replied, remembering what Bleys and Fiona had told me. The forces that permitted Angel's body to remain functional and intact were products of this shadow, and as such might well be disrupted by travel to Amber or even a shadow walk. Angel was trapped. "But Fiona said that it might be possible to find a spell that would restore your humanity. . .we have all of Shadow to look through now, and the help of the most powerful sorceress in the universe. . .if you are willing to accept it."  
  
Angel looked tormented, and I tried to discern what the problem was. At length, he replied, "Buffy, that would have seemed wonderful before. . .but don't you see? You are immortal now. . .what right do I have to tie you down to someone who has a limited lifespan. . .who will inevitably die and leave you behind? What kind of fate is that for you?"  
  
I was irritated, and my face showed it. "Really? Then what were you doing being in love with me, when our situations were reversed? Did you see yourself as being victim of some horrible fate when you fell in love with me?"  
  
Angel looked shocked, then shook his head without otherwise replying. After a moment, he continued, "Also. . .Buffy, I know that if you find such a spell, the human Angel that would result would be technically innocent of all that I have done. . .but I'd still feel the remorse. . .I can't just abandon my penance. . .it would be an offense against whatever decided that I deserved a second chance after being sent to hell."  
  
I was ready for this one. "Oh yeah, about that, Angel. I decided that the First Evil was feeding you a lot of crap about being responsible for bringing you back. . .she talked a good game, but it all seemed kind of haphazard to me. I asked Fiona some questions, and she performed some tests at my request. The results were interesting. The night you came back, I came into this room and placed the ring you gave me on the floor and said goodbye to you. Fiona's tests proved that a rift between the demon dimension and this shadow was opened just after that. . .by someone using Pattern manipulation abilities."  
  
Angel was startled by the revelation and managed to blurt out, "How-?" I held up my hand and replied, "Wait, there's more. The night I was begging you to come in before the sun came up. . .when that freak snowstorm came up and blocked out the light? Guess what Fiona found?"  
  
Angel stared and asked, "Another use of Pattern powers?" I nodded grimly and replied, "You win the prize. Fiona said that both uses were rather crude in methodology, but considerable in power. She was rather impressed, considering that the person who did it had no clue what was going on."  
  
Angel blinked and whispered, "You?"   
  
I nodded slowly and replied, "That's right, me. Little Miss Untrained Talent thwarted the sanctity of the demon dimension and blew off the First Evil without realizing what in the hell she was doing. So if you want to thank the force that is responsible for you being here, go ahead, but you're welcome, already. As for the past crimes of Angelus, you've done a lot of atoning, wouldn't you say? This world wouldn't be here any more several times over if it wasn't for you helping me. If you feel the need to keep doing what you have been doing, more power to you: you're stuck here and as a vampire until I can find the right spell. But enough is enough, Angel: I love you, and your excuses about why it won't work are starting to get old."  
  
He could take a shock rather well. . .I had to give him that. He looked at me with a rueful smile and commented, "I'm not going to win this argument, am I?"  
  
I grinned and shook my head, then nestled back into his arms, and commented, "We've got plenty of time, Angel. . .and if you're worried about getting old and feeble on me, I've found out that living in Amber greatly slows the aging process for normal humans. . .sounds like a nice place to retire from life as a demon hunter, wouldn't you say?"  
  
Angel's response was a smile and a kiss, and I knew that I had won.  
  
  
BLEYS  
  
  
Everyone had gathered, and they all seemed to be openly curious as Buffy walked into the room. I heard Xander audibly inhale, and Giles, Wesley and Angel were visibly startled, while the women in the room seemed interested, and Oz. . .well, I just can't read that fellow.   
  
Buffy was wearing a red evening dress with feathery ruffles around her shoulders. A diamond and gold necklace rested around her neck as if it had always been there. She looked like a fairy tale princess coming to the ball. . .except for the jeweled dagger hanging at her side. She looked at her friends and her mother and asked, "Well, what do you think of the new look?"  
  
Everyone was speechless for a moment, then Xander looked at her for a long moment and commented, "Wow, Buffy. . .gives 'dressed to kill' a whole new meaning." He smiled and asked, "So what's the occasion?"  
  
Buffy turned to me, and I explained, "It is traditional for a young Amberite who has completed the Pattern to choose a personal set of colors, then for Dworkin, Oberon's father and the original architect of the Pattern, to draw the personal Trump of that person dressed in those colors for distribution to the family. This is how Buffy chose to appear, and this is how Dworkin portrayed her." I pulled out the Trump that Dworkin had finished two weeks before, and I displayed it to the fascinated group in the room.  
  
Dworkin had drawn Buffy standing in the library of Castle Amber: a massive bookcase was the background and a globe sat in the lower right hand corner of the image. Buffy's expression, particularly her eyes, was contemplative, yet there was the hint of a smile, as if she were appreciating a private joke that she would love to share with the viewer. Her right hand rested casually against the dagger at her side. . .a threat, and yet not so. Prejudiced as I admit being, I viewed it as Dworkin's finest work.  
  
At length, everyone had seen the Trump, and I put it away and continued, "Unfortunately, producing large amounts of these Trumps is not practical. . .therefore I cannot provide you with copies. . .but simple sketches by an adept with the ability to produce Trumps. . .such as myself, will serve the function in a less elegant manner." I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small pile of cards, after which I gave one to every person in the room. I kept one for myself and examined my work: Buffy was wearing the outfit that she had worn the night I met her: no thought given to fashion or glamour, yet she looked fully as lovely as she did in Dworkin's work.   
  
Buffy smiled and explained, "You can use those to contact me. . .but don't overdo it, please. . .our clocks won't be synchronized any more, and one too many early morning wakeup calls will make me cranky." At that, everyone moved in to congratulate Buffy and otherwise shower her with affection, and I made a point of moving back and letting her enjoy the moment. After some time, she came over to where I was standing and just stood there silently. Eventually, I turned to her, and I could see sadness in her face. "What's wrong, Buffy," I asked, "Having second thoughts about leaving?"  
  
She shook her head and replied, "No. . .but it's all so different. I'm used to being able to pick up the phone any time I want and talking to Xander, or Willow, or even Giles. . .now, it will just be Trump calls. . .and they have to call me, not the other way around. I'm going to miss them, that's all."  
  
I smiled, and commented, "I think we can remedy that. . .you just have to add another subject to your study list. I can teach you to make Trump sketches, and you can use them to contact your friends, or even cut out some walking time between Amber and here. . .but it will take some time. Do you think you're up for it?"  
  
Buffy grinned and replied, "Hey, I'm Buffy of Amber. . .what's a little extra studying against facing the dangers of infinite Shadow?" I leaned over to embrace her, and wondered again at the twists of fate that had brought us together. . .she still had a long way to go before she could rest on her laurels, but I was confident from what I had seen that she would come through it all successfully. . .she seemed to have everything under control. I straightened, motioned to her, and we rejoined the party that would be the end of one stage in her life and the beginning of the next one.  
  
  
AUTHOR'S CLOSING NOTE: Well, that's it for this story. I haven't decided on a follow up story, yet, but it will probably involve Buffy settling into her life as an Amberite, while keeping touch with her old friends and keeping an eye on her home shadow. I hope you have enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it.  
  
  
As always, comments are welcomed and desired.  
  
  



End file.
